


Three Weeks, Ten States, and One Million Reasons to Fall for You

by leftennant



Series: Road Trip of Champions [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Ducky - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Romanogers - Fandom, Wintershock - Fandom
Genre: Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Road Trip, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Slow Burn, Smut, WinterShock - Freeform, ducky - Freeform, romanogers - Freeform, smitten Bucky, steve and natasha conspiring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-04-22 18:38:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 73,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4846088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/pseuds/leftennant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Darcy considers all the things she never planned to do, going on a ten state road trip with the Winter Soldier ranks right up there with jumping off the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier sans parachute.  Falling for said Winter Soldier somewhere between New York and New Orleans?  Never.  Gonna.  Happen.  Probably, at least.  I mean, he is pretty damn sexy when he's not glaring at her.  Whatever.  She's only in it for the taser batons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Never Bargain with the Black Widow

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo... I might have left Loki for a super soldier. Or at least I'm cheating on him with one? Oh god. Nobody kill me for that. Please. I still love Asgard's resident bad boy. I promise. ;D
> 
> The truth is that I've been fighting off a Wintershock muse attack for months. I thought I could handle some Darcy/Bucky fic without getting caught up in this ship, but hahaha, the joke was on me there, because I'm 100% on board with this otp now. Like, hardcore on board. You have no idea. Anyway, I got hit by this little Wintershock road trip plot bunny with slow-burn sexytimes, and couldn't resist. Hopefully everyone likes it, 'cause I'm kinda loving writing it.
> 
> I'd like to thank Anniemar for all of her hand-holding while I was flailing over this ship. She's the best, you guys. The. Best. I can't tell you what star she's been, and I'm giving her beta credit for this chapter, because she damn well deserves it. Although I totally tinkered with it after she read it, so if you see mistakes I'm have to own them completely. I can never leave well enough alone when it comes to fic. She's awesome, though, and I have her to thank for pulling me into this rabbit hole. :D
> 
> ****************************************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the incredible amidtheflowers made this for me, and HOLY FLIPPING CATS you guys. HOLY FLIPPING CATS, OKAY???? It's the best thing ever, and I am screeching over it. So. Yeah. Look at how beautiful and amazing. Just. Look.
> 
> ***************************************************************

Darcy decided the whole thing was a terrible idea the very moment Natasha suggested it. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the glorious cup of steaming espresso which had just arrived in front of her, she might have found something else that needed her immediate attention and left. But the espresso was there, and it _was_ glorious. Plus Nat was paying. So...she stayed.

“Let me get this straight,” she said, fingers drumming the table next to the tiny cup of caffeinated perfection. “You want me to come along with you, Steve, and HYDRA’s least social ex-assassin, on a road trip to the Gulf of Mexico?”

Natasha glanced at her over the rim of her own cup. “Yes.”

There was only one intelligent thing to say to that, so Darcy said it. “Um, _why_?”

“Steve thinks it would be good for Bucky to finish his recovery beyond the bounds of SHIELD, and have a chance to acclimate himself to the outside world without feeling like his every move is being monitored.” She paused a moment, tilted her head, and said, “I do too. He needs a break from everything. I think we all do.”

“Okay, that I get. If a formerly brainwashed ex-assassin needs a break, a formerly brainwashed ex-assassin should have one, probably for the safety of all. I'm more concerned with the part where you think I should come along for the ride.”

“I would have thought that was self-explanatory. You and Steve are friends, you and I are friends…”

“Because you are terrifying, and I don’t want to die,” Darcy interjected. “Also, you talked Steve into letting me have the good office with the window, which I’m still very grateful for by the way.”

“Terrifying, huh?” Natasha rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you seemed really terrified when you barged into my place uninvited the other night demanding sugar.”

“First off,” Darcy said, raising a finger, “I was having a cupcake crisis. It was an honest to God, Defcon One batter emergency that required drastic action. And second of all, I had no idea you and Steve would be having tantric super sex or whatever up against the refrigerator. People who are getting busy up against a refrigerator should probably lock the door, which you had completely failed to do. For the record, I had no idea you and Steve were having sex at all. So that was hardly my fault. And third of all...”

“There’s a third of all?”

“There most certainly is. Third of all, yes I am still terrified of you, because you managed to get me sugar, threaten my life, and kick me out all in the space of three seconds while you were still tantric-ing it up with Steve. I didn’t know whether to be completely impressed by your prowess, or to start making final arrangements in case you showed up later to ensure there were no witnesses to your kitchen hook-up.”

“Which did you decide?” Natasha asked, cup poised halfway to her mouth.

“Both. I now own a very nice burial plot just outside of Syracuse. Did you know that Friday can notarize wills? It’s pretty damn convenient. I left you my cupcake tins.”

“I don’t bake.”

Darcy shrugged. “I’ll teach you in exchange for me not needing to use the plot anytime soon.”

“I’ll consider it,” Nat said. 

“Super. Now, about this road trip,” Darcy began.

“The one that you are coming on as a personal favor to me?”

“The one that I am definitely _not_ going on, since you and Steve are insane, and this is the worst idea ever,” Darcy told her. “But mostly because, in case you haven’t noticed, Bucky hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Natasha said. 

“Um. Yes. He does. Last week I offered to share my popcorn with him during movie night, and he got up and left the room. As in, sharing popcorn with me was so offensive to him that he vacated the entire media area just to avoid it.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like popcorn,” Natasha countered with a nonchalant shift of her shoulders.

“Or,” Darcy responded, “and let’s just think about this for a second, because I really think it makes sense: he hates me.”

“Stop making this weird,” Nat said. “Just say you’ll go so we have a fourth.”

“Are you serious right now? You’re the one who wants to confine everyone’s favorite angry, knife-wielding hermit in close quarters with someone who has won the title of SHIELD's Most Non-Existent Filter two years running, on a drive down the coast from New York to Louisiana. And you think _I’m_ the one making it weird? Natasha, this is a disaster waiting to happen. One of us will end up dead, and fyi? It will be me. In a ditch. Probably somewhere in Roanoke, Virginia.”

“I don’t think we plan on driving through Roanoke,” Nat said calmly. “And I think Tony has you beat right now on the whole non-existent filter thing.”

“I doubt that Bucky is going to worry about what city the ditch is in,” Darcy retorted. “And you are wrong about Stark. I’m totally ahead of him in zero-filter points at the moment. We’ve been keeping track.”

Natasha lifted her eyebrows. Darcy wasn’t sure if she was considering ditch related situations, or the zero-filter point system she and Tony had worked out. Probably both.

After a few more seconds of silent contemplation Nat said, “Bucky won’t kill you. Steve and I will be there. We’ve got a strict no homicide policy for road trips since that whole situation last fall.”

“Oh well, I feel _so_ much better now that I know you and Steve will turn the car around if Bucky threatens my life,” Darcy groused.

“You are really making a bigger deal of this than it is,” Nat said, shaking her head. “And your espresso is getting cold.”

“Espresso, exshmresso. I’m not going.”

Natasha folded her arms over her chest, and leaned back in her seat. “What if I made it worth your while?”

Wait. Was the Black Widow bargaining? This could be good. Possibly. Depending on how desperate she and Steve were right now. Darcy hoped it was really, really desperate. 

“Worth my while how?” she asked cautiously.

“That’s up to you. What do you want?” 

Darcy took a sip of her espresso, then set the cup back in the saucer with a clink, thinking about what could possibly make spending weeks in a car making stilted small talk with the Winter Soldier worth her while. Finally she looked up. “Fine. I’ll go on your potential nightmare of a road trip, and I’ll even play nice with Bucky. Or as nice as he'll let me, anyway. But when we get back, you and Steve are upgrading me to a set of taser batons.” Nat opened her mouth, and Darcy held up her hand to stop her from speaking. “ _And_ my own Widow’s Bite bracelets.”

“You know, if Bucky decides to kill you, I might just look the other way,” Natasha remarked, narrowing her eyes at Darcy.

“Take it or leave it,” Darcy replied. She took another sip of espresso. “The way I see it, I’ve got nothing to lose here, and we both know that’s the best possible position to be in.”

Nat glared at her. Then she yanked a tablet out of the bag hanging on the back of her chair, rapidly tapped on the screen for a few seconds, and said, “Done. I expect you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at zero five hundred on Saturday morning, packed and ready to go. Friday will make sure you have the travel itinerary and a list of the gear you’ll need for the trip. Don’t worry, SHIELD will provide anything you don’t have.”

Wait. What gear? Why would she need gear unless… Oh, fuck no. Fuck. No. Darcy suddenly realized she had just been played, because gear sounded a hell of a lot like camping. God dammit, she should have demanded her own vibranium shield too.

“Is there a problem?” Natasha asked sweetly.

“Potentially. Because I’m beginning to think this is a camping situation, and I'm completely allergic to the outdoors,” Darcy answered. 

“Too bad. You already agreed to go.”

“Well this is me disagreeing to go, then. I’m really sorry, but the thing is, sleeping outside is actually against my religion.” 

“Darcy, you’re an atheist,” Nat said dryly.

“I just decided to get baptized,” Darcy replied.

“No you didn’t.”

“Okay then, I worship Thor. All hail the Mighty Mew-Mew!” Darcy raised her arm, waving an imaginary thunder-hammer in what she hoped was the direction of Asgard.

Natasha just shook her head. “Nice try, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say Thor would approve of his acolytes going camping.”

“Fine. Whatever. That doesn’t change the fact that spending the night in a tent is fundamentally wrong on so many levels. Like, every level. _All_ the levels, Nat. Do not do this to me.” Then Darcy thought of something else. Something way, way worse. “We’re all getting our own tents, right? Oh my God, I am not going to have to share nylon housing with Sling-Blade the Hermit, am I?”

Natasha stood up, smiling in a way that made Darcy incredibly nervous. “Like I said, Friday will make sure you get all the relevant details. See you on Saturday.” And with that, she left the cafeteria, flicking her fingers at Darcy in a tiny, sardonic wave.

Darcy sat for a few minutes, staring into her espresso morosely. “I’m an idiot,” she said to the liquid in the cup. “An idiot, who probably won’t survive the first night.”

Her comm crackled to life, and Nat’s voice replied, “Oh hey, idiot? Don’t forget the waterproof sleeping bag. You’re going to need it.”

The comm crackled off, and Darcy dropped her head to the table with a groan. _Camping_. With the Winter Soldier. It was safe to say she was totally fucked.


	2. Somewhere in Top Secretville, New York (aka Darcy would tell you, but then she'd have to kill you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road trip begins! In which Steve has a system, Natasha has control of the radio, and Darcy has a sexy hermit seatmate who came with weapons and probably hates her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow you guys. This response has been awesomely amazing. I'm kinda floored by all the comments and kudos right now, so thank you so much for that. :D  
> My plan right now is to have Monday updates, which will give me a week to work on each chapter. I know I had a tendency to update my Tasertricks stuff with a new chapter each day, but I want to pace myself on this one. We'll see if I can stick to that. ;) 
> 
> Anyway, let's get this road trip started! Woo!
> 
> *********************************************************************

Saturday morning found Darcy blearily watching Steve secure neatly packed bundles of gear in the trunk space of an oversize, black SUV. She couldn’t see Bucky anywhere, but Nat was kneeling on the ground, busily arranging drinks and snacks in a cooler. Darcy yawned widely, travel mug of coffee clasped in one hand, and stamped her feet on the ground to warm them up. The weather in upstate New York was unseasonably cold for early October, and she thought it was almost worth going on this doomed road trip if meant stashing her coat for the next three weeks. 

“Can you help with those?” Natasha asked Darcy, gesturing at a pile of backpacks sitting on the curb. “Just hand them off to Steve so he can put them where he wants them.”

“They’re not heavy,” Darcy said grabbing the closest backpack. “Why don't I just find a spot for them in the back while he gets the big stuff? It will make the packing go quicker.”

Steve promptly plucked the backpack from her hands. “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

“No, really. You do the tents and whatever. I can handle this,” Darcy told him. “I have packed a car before.”

“Not like Steve,” Nat said, rolling her eyes. “He’s got a system.”

“You knocking my system, Romanoff?” Steve leaned around the open trunk, arms folded over his chest, and gave the cooler a once over. “You know, you could fit more in that ice chest if you kept everything in designated zones, and stacked the water bottles sideways.”

“Oh really?” Nat picked up one of the bottled waters sitting on the pavement next to her and deliberately stuck it in upside-down. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

A few moments passed with neither of them saying anything, eyes locked on each other in a definite standoff. Then Natasha started to grin and said, “This is killing you, isn’t it? How badly do you want to come over here and fix my packing?”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m not letting it bother me at all,” Steve replied.

“Not at all, hm?” She picked up another bottle, opened it, took a sip, and replaced the cap. Then she jammed it in with the rest. “How about now?”

Steve’s jaw twitched, and Darcy heard him utter a definite “God _dammit_ ,” under his breath, but he didn’t budge from his spot by the trunk.

Natasha picked up a handful of protein bars, tossed them haphazardly in on top of everything else, and asked, “Still good?”

He just sighed, shaking his head with a rueful smile. “You know, the amount you enjoy torturing me is a little scary”

“It’s only because you’re so adorable when you’re trying to pretend I'm not getting to you.” Nat stood up, walking over to kiss him on the cheek, and said in a much lower voice, “Don’t worry, Captain Rogers, I promise to rearrange the cooler to your exact specifications if you make it worth my while.”

A look passed between them that made Darcy wonder if she was about to witness a repeat performance of the kitchen-sutra only up against an SUV this time. There were things she could deal with at five in the morning, and things she could not. Steve and Natasha getting it on in the vehicle that they would all be living out of for the next three weeks was definitely in the latter category. 

“Um, hi. I’m still here. With my coffee. Just thought I’d throw that out there in case you forgot. By the way, where’s Slingblade the...” 

Darcy had taken a step backwards while speaking, smacking straight into a very solid something. She nearly dropped her coffee when she turned around and found that out the very solid something was Bucky. An extremely unimpressed looking Bucky, who was dressed like they were going out on a mission, and not taking an extended joyride down the East Coast. She took in his all black ensemble, from boots to rumpled hoodie, while hastily moving a safe distance away from him.

“Jesus Christ,” she declared. “How about giving a girl a little warning next time. I almost had a heart attack. ” 

He didn’t answer, just stood there looking all twitchy and tense under his dark hoodie. His eyes skirted around her to nail Steve with a look that made Darcy shiver even though it wasn’t directed at her. 

“I thought it was just the three of us,” Bucky said in a flat voice.

“That was me,” Natasha replied, fielding the question before Steve could “I didn’t like being outnumbered, so I invited Darcy, and she said she’d love to come along with us. Right, Darcy?”

A good 99% of that statement was patently untrue. Darcy was sure everyone there knew that, but decided against pointing it out. Mostly because while Nat’s lips were curved up in a benign smile, her eyes said ‘go along with this or else’, and Darcy didn’t really think arguing with that was wise.

“Yup. I just can’t resist the idea of spending almost a month in a car, and sleeping in a tent. Surprise!” she said in a hectically chipper voice. “Lucky you, right?”

Bucky leveled another icy-blue glare at Steve, lips set in a grim line. “Lucky me.”

Well, this was going about as well as Darcy expected. She glanced over at Steve hoping for a little help, and he made a valiant attempt to come to her rescue. Sorta. Truthfully, he didn't have much to work with, but Darcy gave him points for effort.

“Well that’s settled. We should get moving if we want to beat the traffic. Darcy, could you get me the rest of those bags?”

She scrambled to pick up what looked like some kind of bedroll, and awkwardly lobbed it at him. Steve caught it one handed, neatly stowing it in the back, and held his hand out for another one. 

A thick silence brewed between the four of them. Darcy continued to help Steve with the smaller bags, and Natasha went back to filling up the cooler. Bucky disappeared around the other side of the SUV. Darcy peeked around Steve to see what His Hermitness was doing, and saw him kneeling on the far side to the vehicle, poking around in some kind of metal briefcase looking thing. 

It took her her a minute or so of sneaky sideways glances to figure out the briefcase was actually a weapons case. Full of guns. And knives. And something that looked suspiciously like coil of piano wire strapped into the lid, because garottes were apparently something Bucky brought on road trips.

Meanwhile Darcy had brought her Starkphone, bikini, and a trashy novel to read on the beach. Clearly she was totally unprepared for whatever he thought laid in store for them. Either that or Bucky wanted options in case they drove through Roanoke after all, and he decided to get rid of her.

Oh well. At least they were going to make their way down the coast before cutting over to New Orleans, so she’d die at the beach. Maybe she could ask him to dump her body somewhere nice, like near a big cluster of sea oats on a pretty dune or something. Granted it wasn’t the biggest silver lining, but whatever. Dead beggars can’t be dead choosers. 

Bucky finished poking around in his portable arsenal and snapped it shut. Darcy watched as he carried around to the side of the SUV, opened the door, and slid it under what she assumed was going to be his seat. Steve was watching too. The worried furrow between his brows was hard to miss. Natasha looked carefully blank about the whole thing, which was even less reassuring than Steve’s apparent concern.

“So,” Nat said, question obviously directed at Steve, “who’s driving first?”

“I thought I could get us down to that big rest stop in Maryland by lunchtime. We can stop and trade off then,” he answered as he slammed the trunk shut.

“Super,” Darcy muttered. “Dad’s driving.” Then in a louder voice she said, “I just want to state for the record that I am only putting up with one game of I Spy on this trip, Cap. Choose when to implement it wisely.”

Bucky’s eyes cut over at her for a moment, but he remained expressionless as he slipped past her into the SUV. Natasha immediately claimed shotgun which meant Darcy was next to Bucky in the back. Awesome. 

“Music?” Steve asked, looking back at them in the rearview.

Darcy said yes at the same time Bucky said no. Steve glanced between them, furrow making a reappearance between his eyes. Natasha just leaned forward and switched the radio on with a slightly exasperated sigh. Darcy figured the way things were already going, it was probably the first of many.

For a little while the muted sound of the radio station was the only noise in the vehicle. Darcy stared out her window, watching rural New York roll by outside. After nearly an hour passed with barely any conversation, she was almost sorry she’d made the I Spy rule. 

Steve and Natasha were in the middle of a quiet discussion up front. Something about what route to take through Virginia. Nat was holding a large atlas open in her lap, and tapping things into the GPS as they decided which way to go.

Bucky was studiously focused on the changing landscape outside his own window, jaw set in a hard line, and fists clenched on his lap. It was hard to ignore the sharp uncurrent of tension running through his frame, and Darcy was pretty sure leaving him alone was the best course of action.

Still, she’d promised Natasha to play nice, and Darcy would be damned if she didn’t earn her taser batons at the end of this nightmare. She flipped up the lid on the cooler that was braced between the front seats, and dug around inside for a bottle of water. 

Glancing over at Bucky, she held the water up to get his attention, and said, “Want one?”

He just stared at her like she’d spoken in an alien dialect or something. Darcy finally gave up waiting for an answer, and pushed the plastic bottle into his hands.

“It’s just water. I promise I haven’t secretly laced it with cyanide,” she told him. _Play nice. Play nice. Eyes on the prize._

Bucky gingerly took the water, eyes moving slowly from the label on the bottle to her face as if he was trying to figure out what the catch was. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, unscrewing the cap on hers and taking a sip. 

He was still holding it like she’d rigged it to explode, but Darcy decided that wasn’t her problem. Like they say, you can lead an ex-assassin to water, but you can’t make him drink...or however it went. Platitudes weren’t really her thing. Besides, she was one random act of kindness closer to getting some majorly impressive weaponized voltage. 

Eventually she saw Bucky crack open the bottle of water out of her peripheral vision, and smiled to herself over the small victory. Maybe they’d even work their way up to actually talking at some point. Then he moved, deliberately turning his back on her to face out the window again. Oookay, maybe not. Still, baby steps. 

A couple more hours crawled by. Darcy passed the time by playing games on her phone, and sending Jane an email detailing how much she was hating everything. It was a long email.

She had just sent the email when Natasha switched from the now-staticky radio station to some playlist Steve had compiled on his phone. It was mostly old motown songs which Darcy suspected Sam had gotten him hooked on. 

The music seemed to break the heavy mood in the car, or it least it had loosened Steve up. He and Natasha started talking about work. More accurately, they were telling stories about what had gone down in Sokovia. Darcy had seen the reports, but reading a report didn’t really do the situation justice.

“Wait, wait. Go back to the party at Stark’s. Steve really couldn’t lift the hammer?” Darcy asked.

Natasha looked back at her in the rearview, one eyebrow cocked. “So he says.”

“Are you accusing me of lying, Romanoff?” Steve protested. “You were there. I couldn’t lift the thing.”

“I saw Thor’s face when it moved,” she replied. “And then I saw you admit defeat. Somehow I feel like those two things are suspiciously connected.”

“You made the hammer move?” Darcy asked, totally impressed. “Thor never said anything about that. Not that we do a whole lot talking when Jane’s around. They’re mostly...you know...otherwise occupied. Between you and me, though, Jane totally picked Mjölnir up once. I saw her do it.”

Steve practically turned around in his seat. “Are you serious? Dr. Foster picked up the hammer?”

“Yeah. The big guy is always leaving it lying around her apartment. Usually right by the door where I end up tripping over it when I come over, but this time he set it on the coffee table.”

“Does that mean the coffee table is worthy?” Steve interrupted. “I’m still trying to figure out how that works.”

“Right???” Darcy exclaimed. “That’s what I wanna know. It’s weird. All those rules about having to be worthy to pick it up and shit, but it can be supported by a humble Hemnes coffee table. I ought to contact Ikea, because something like that should really be in the online product description. ‘Solid wood construction, coordinates with other furniture in the Hemnes collection, also boasts a claim to the throne of Asgard.’ Anyway, yeah, Thor left it on the table where Jane had all these papers spread out for some project she’s working on. I was trying to work around it…”

“Have _you_ tried to lift it?” Natasha asked.

“Are you kidding?” Darcy said. “That’s like the first thing I did after I found out what it was. Mostly because I wanted to see Odin’s face when I showed up and declared myself queen.”

“And?”

“Nothing. But I never really expected to be worthy. Besides, I don’t really look good in capes. Too short.” Darcy shrugged. “Where was I?”

“You were working around the hammer,” Steve said.

“That’s right. It was a complete pain in the ass, too, because it was sitting this chart I really needed. Jane wandered in around then, and found me trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do. She just smiled in that exasperatingly fond way she does whenever it has anything to do with Thor, picked the Mewstinator up, handed me the papers, and set it back down. Just like that.”

Natasha’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. For 2.5 seconds on a Wednesday afternoon last April, Jane was totally the Thunder Goddess of Asgard.” 

“Does Thor know?” Steve asked, shaking his head in amazement.

“Yeah. He’s seen her do it. The first time he got all emotional about it, and stopped speaking English for a few minutes. Then I had to leave because they wanted to, uh, celebrate her worthiness.” Darcy winced a little. Thor had forgotten she was in the room that time, and it was kind of rough watching two people so lost in each other when Darcy’s steady Saturday night date involved microwave brownies in a mug, and Netflix lately. She’d escaped the apartment before too much armor had come off, so that part was good at least.

“Have they told anyone else?” Natasha inquired.

“Nope, and I’m telling you guys under penalty of death by taser. If Stark found out, Thor would never hear the end of it. You know how he is.”

“Don’t worry. Our lips are sealed,” Steve said. “Jane Foster, Thunder Goddess of Asgard. Who knew?”

“It’s totally crazy, isn’t it? But then again, what isn’t crazy around here? Speaking of around here, and not in the larger sense, but the immediate one, are we coming up on any rest stops? I may or may not need to see a guy about a horse in the near future.”

Steve glanced at her in the rearview. “May or may not?”

“I prefer to remain mysterious,” Darcy responded.

“Then we’re both remaining mysterious, because I may or may not need to join you,” Natasha said, checking the GPS . “No rest stop, but there’s a 24 hour diner coming up in a couple of miles.”

“That’ll work.” Darcy settled back in her seat to wait. “And just so you know, I’m not going to rise to the bait and point out that you are never not being mysterious.”

“You just did.”

“Did I? Or was my use of a double negative all a clever ruse to make you think I said it?”

“No. You definitely said it.”

“I think you’re wrong there, buddy,” Darcy said. “I’m like the Mata Hari of sentence structure. Nobody can touch me.”

“You know Mata Hari got captured and executed for espionage in 1917, right?” Natasha informed her.

“That’s exactly what she wants you to believe,” Darcy retorted.

The back and forth about whether Mata Hari had survived the firing squad, and how she could have managed it, went on until they reached the turn off for the diner. To Darcy’s relief, it was only a few miles down the road. Her 'may or may not' statement may or may not have been putting things lightly. She was practically floating from all the coffee and water, and was ridiculously relieved when Steve parked, and they all went inside. 

“Try not to get into too much trouble while we’re gone,” Natasha told them in the entryway. “And get me a turkey club. You want anything, Darcy?”

Darcy pursed her lips. “Fries. Lots of them. Ketchup on the side, and a large Coke. Ice tea if they don’t have that, because Pepsi is the official drink of people who don’t know better.”

Steve nodded, and they split up. The two girls headed off in the direction of the ladies room, while the guys made a beeline for the hostess station. The last Darcy saw of them was Steve letting the hostess know how many were in their party. Bucky stood behind him, shoulders hunched forward sullenly, and hands thrust in his pockets.

***********************************************************************************

Bucky remained stonily silent as Steve made polite small talk with the girl who showed them to their table. The waitress arrived seconds later to take their order, and then disappeared into the kitchen with it. As soon as they were alone, though, Steve turned to him with a wary expression on his face.

“Alright, Buck. Let’s hear it.”

“Hear what?” Bucky replied. “I got nothing to say. Not that it would matter if I did, apparently.”

Steve folded his arms over his chest. “Is that how we’re going to do this, then? You’ll pretend us springing Darcy on you without warning doesn’t bother you, and spend the entire trip refusing to talk to any of us while you stew about it?”

“I’m not stewing about it.”

“You haven’t said a single word for three straight hours, and you won’t even look at her. Tell me how that’s not stewing.”

Bucky rounded on him, bristling all over with pent up anger. “Fine. You want me to say it? I’ll say it. I’m goddamn furious with the two of you for not telling me she was coming along, and just letting me walk into it blind like that that. What the hell were you thinking? That you and Natasha could trap us in a car for three weeks, and play cupid? Jesus, Steve, we’re not in grade school anymore.”

“No, we’re not,” Steve agreed. “The way I remember it, in grade school you were always the one trying to get _me_ to talk to girls, and I was the one hiding.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“Really? Because Darcy is beginning to notice that you treat her like a live grenade, Buck. And she’s not the only one.”

“You think I care what people think?”

“I think you care what she thinks.”

Bucky snorted. “You know what she thinks? She thinks I’m the guy who spent the past seventy odd years as HYDRA’s lackey, and then tried to kill Captain America. She’s seen the briefs, Steve. There’s no way I’m getting a pass on that. Not from a girl like her.”

“You weren’t thinking straight, Bucky. That’s in the briefs too.” Steve paused, scrubbing his hand through his hair. He apparently decided to try another tack, because his next words were said much more quietly. “Nothing's that easy anymore, is it? We aren’t, the world isn’t, nothing is. But I think maybe this could be. You already like her, and I know Darcy. All this? What we deal with? Where we came from? That kind of stuff doesn’t phase her the way you think it will, and you’d know that if you stopped dodging her and took a chance on things.”

“Yeah well, pardon me if I don’t share your optimism,” Bucky snapped. “Where you came from and where I came from aren’t the same place anymore. You were out saving the world, and what was I doing? You think she’s going to want to deal with that? No girl would. She shouldn’t even have to.”

"If that's how you feel, then fine. But you're going to be rooming with her for the rest of the trip. So maybe you could try to be civil."

Bucky gaped at him. "What do you mean rooming together?"

"I mean we've only booked two hotel rooms in Virginia, and New Orleans," Steve calmly informed him. "You and Darcy are sharing." 

"The fuck we are," Bucky replied.

"It's either that or walk back, your choice."

For one mutinous moment Bucky almost did just that. Of all the harebrained, ludicrous ideas, this had to be Steve's worst. And that was counting the time he had walked into a HYDRA stronghold alone without a backup plan. Bucky could have strangled Steve for putting him in this position, except that he knew deep down his friend was only trying to help. That didn't make it better exactly, but it tempered Bucky's anger against him. 

"C'mon, is sharing accommodations with a gorgeous, intelligent woman really that bad?" Steve asked.

Though Bucky hated to admit it, Steve was right. There were worse things than being cooped up with a beautiful girl for a few weeks. Not that he thought he stood a chance where Darcy was concerned. Steve might have his best interests at heart, but he was also delusional. 

"It's not her I'm worried about. I don't..." Bucky shook his head, teeth cutting into his bottom lip. "I don't remember how to do this anymore. Talk to a woman, make her like me. It's been too long."

"So let her take the lead. I have a feeling Darcy would be okay with that. But you're never going to get anywhere if you don't attempt some kind of communication with her."

It was a valid point. For whatever reason, Darcy kept being kind to him when Bucky had been nothing but a complete ass to her. The incident with the popcorn still made him cringe. He could try to rectify that at least.

"Alright," he said.

Steve's posture relaxed, and he smiled. "Yeah? That's great, Buck."

"Don't get too excited. I'm just agreeing to be civil, not to marry the girl."

"Right, right. I understand. You know, take it slow. See what happens."

Bucky could feel the buoyancy that Steve was trying to hide under a show of friendly support. It was hard to be irritated with the guy when he was sitting there all lit up like a kid who'd just been told Christmas had come early. Hell, he'd always found it hard to stay irritated with Steve. Even back when they were kids, and Bucky spent half his time bailing his friend out when his mouth made trouble his fists couldn't back up. 

Dragging himself out of memories of the past, Bucky tried to envision sharing a room with Darcy. The thought of her sleeping on a bed a few feet away from his made his throat go dry. He suddenly wondered if he'd just made a huge mistake. Something else hit him then. Sharing a room didn't mean...nah. Steve wouldn't do that. But what if he had? Bucky felt himself starting to panic. "Those rooms you were talking about. They've got more than one bed in them, right?"

"Of course. I wouldn't do that to Darcy," Steve replied. "And while we're camping you'll have..."

The rest of Steve’s response was cut off by the waitress returning with their order. Before they could pick up where they left off, Darcy and Natasha came back from the bathroom. Bucky made the mistake of letting his gaze sidle their way as they came closer. Darcy was illuminated by the early morning sun coming through the window, lighting up her skin and the the strands of hair around her face like a halo, as she laughed at something Nastasha had said. He was suddenly struck by the thought of how she was always the brightest spot in the room while he was a darkest, and a sick, nervous feeling started up in the pit of his stomach.

“Hey soldier,” Natasha said, smiling at Steve as she approached. “Those seats taken?”

Bucky fought the urge to roll his eyes at how quickly Rogers jumped to get the dinged up vinyl chair for his girl. 

“As a matter of fact, it just so happens my friend and I have been saving them for the two prettiest girls in the joint, and here you both are.”

This time Bucky _did_ roll his eyes. It sounded like a line he would have used once upon a time, and he sincerely hoped he looked like less of a smitten idiot when he said it.

Natasha turned to Darcy and said, “What do you think? They look harmless enough.”

“I’m fine with them not being harmless as long as those french fries are for me,” Darcy replied. 

She reached for the back of the seat nearest to Natasha’s, and Bucky felt sharp kick to his ankle under the table. His first thought was that Steve could not be serious. Bucky looked over at him in annoyance only to find that he was absolutely serious, eyes trained on Bucky with a look that said he was either getting Darcy’s chair or getting his ass kicked later.

Bucky glowered at him, but got up. Darcy took a full step back as he advanced on her, eyes wide and apprehensive. He sent another look Steve’s way that said, _Great idea. Look how well it’s going already_ , and tugged the seat out for her.

Darcy hesitated a moment, gaze flicking over his face in confusion. Then she shrugged, hung her coat and purse on the back of the chair, and sat down. Bucky waited until she was settled, before sliding her chair back under the table they way Steve had done for Natasha. He was about to return to neutral territory on his own side of the table, when he felt a finger poke him in the side.

“Thanks,” Darcy said. “Ten chivalry points to the enigmatic guy in the hoodie.”

Bucky swallowed, moving out of range of her hand, and gave her a curt nod in reply. He made it back to his spot across from her, only to see Darcy regarding him curiously.

“Aren’t you eating?” she asked, gesturing to the empty space in front of him on the table, and then at the pile of breakfast food in front of Steve.

“I’m not hungry,” Bucky said as he shifted his eyes over to the large bank of windows behind her. 

It was a habit he couldn’t break, scanning the horizon for a threat. A constant that stayed with him despite the months of therapy and calm inside the Avengers facility. Bucky was beginning to wonder if he would ever feel like there wasn’t a need to assess his surroundings for an enemy. He was just switching to the entrance when Darcy’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, pulling his focus back to her.

“Yeah, I don’t buy it. You super-soldier types are always hungry. Here.” She pushed her own order of french fries into the center of the table, and picked one up, holding it out to him. “In case you were wondering, there’s no cyanide in these either.” When he didn’t immediately reach for it, Darcy sighed, took a bite, and held it out again. “Mmmm, delicious fry. So totally hot, and yummy, and not seasoned with deadly poison.”

Bucky could see Steve leaning forward, waiting to see how things would unfold. Even Natasha was monitoring them covertly as she ate her sandwich. Goddamn, he hated having an audience. With a quick, jerky movement, he took the french fry from Darcy and put it in his mouth.

“Happy now?” he muttered as he chewed.

She shook her head. “Nope. I’m only mildly gratified. You want happy, you have to eat half.”

Christ. She was killing him. Next thing you know, she’d be asking to share a soda with two straws or something. Almost before Bucky had finished his thought, Darcy pushed her Coca-Cola at him.

“That too,” she said.

“It’s yours,” he insisted.

“Now it’s ours. I’m not afraid of catching your cooties, I’ve been routinely vaccinated against them since the fourth grade after Jacob Flynn held me down and kissed me at recess.”

“Maybe I don’t like Coke.”

Darcy made a face. “I’m sorry, but I refuse to accept that. You are not a Pepsi guy. I can tell. Oh my God, is this a Dr. Pepper thing?”

“No, it’s just that cola tastes all wrong now,” Bucky replied. “Nothing like back when…” He came to an abrupt halt mid-sentence. The last thing he wanted to do was remind her that he was nearly as old as the formula for the drink in front of her. 

“Coke tastes different?” Darcy looked from Bucky to Steve, expression brimming with interest. “Really? What’s different? Was it better?”

“It was sweeter,” Steve answered. “Less metallic. And there was a hell of a lot more caffeine in it. Remember the time we split a six pack when we snuck into that theater to see Dracula, Buck?” 

“It was Frankenstein, not Dracula, and yeah. You were up for almost three days straight afterwards,” Bucky replied. “I had to let you stay at my place to keep your mother from finding out.”

“Frankenstein?” Steve finished his omelette, and started in on his toast. “You sure? I thought it was Karloff.”

Bucky took a fry without thinking. “It _was_ Karloff. Dracula was Lugosi.” It was odd the stuff he remembered. Half the time he couldn’t picture what his parents looked like without concentrating, and even then it was like seeing them through a fog, but that time in the theater was clear as day. “It was a pretty good movie. Both were.”

“‘31 was a good year for film,” Steve said. “You know what else came out that year that Darcy here would appreciate? Mata Hari.”

Natasha set down her sandwich, and picked up her drink. “I’ve seen that one. Who played the lead? Jean Harlow?”

“Greta Garbo,” Darcy replied, dipping one of her fries in ketchup. 

Steve and Bucky stopped to stare at her.

“What? You think just because I was born after the dinosaurs went extinct, unlike you two cavemen, that I can’t appreciate classic movies? I love Garbo.”

“I might still be catching up on things, but I'm pretty sure dinosaurs predated cavemen,” Steve remarked dryly.

“Fine. Wooly mammoths then,” Darcy replied with an innocent smile. “Which reminds me, what was it like riding them into battle? Did yours come with its own star-spangled saddle, Cap?”

Natasha made a choking sound, and when he saw Steve’s expression, Bucky had to hold back a laugh as well. 

“No, Steve’s had complimentary flagpole brackets attached to the tusks, and Betsy Ross in a bikini painted on the flank,” he deadpanned, taking another fry and biting into it. He looked back up to find everyone was staring at _him_ now. Bucky shifted uncomfortably under the trio of dumbfounded looks. “You three are gonna catch flies with your mouths hanging open like that.”

Darcy’s jaw snapped shut. “Yeah, but you made a joke.”

“I’ve been known to do it before."

There was a beat where she said nothing, just sat there, head tilted slightly, looking at him like he was some sort of puzzle to solve. Then she flashed him a brilliant smile, and held her right hand out to him.

“Welcome to the road trip, Slingblade. I’m officially declaring us co-pilots from here on out.

Bucky could practically feel the other two holding their breath while he eyed Darcy’s hand hovering over the basket of fries. Hell, he wasn’t exactly breathing as he considered taking it in his own. Darcy quirked an eyebrow at him, waiting, and he exhaled slowly before enclosing her palm in a careful grip.

She shook his hand firmly, nodded once, and then said to the other two, “We’re taking the next leg of the trip.”

“Are you sure about that?” Natasha asked.

Darcy never took her eyes off Bucky, her gaze steady and sure as she pushed her Coke at him again. 

“Positive.”


	3. More Detour than Darcy Bargained For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy takes the wheel, Natasha makes her opinion on banjos perfectly clear, and Bucky refuses to defect and join the Tetris revolution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said Monday updates, but omg, last week was a nightmare of family related drama around here. I literally wrote this entire chapter yesterday in an effort to get it posted on time, but then was too tired to edit it.
> 
> Sooooo. Yeah. I'm posting today. Hope everyone is okay with that. :)
> 
> Also, if I have any Stroudsburg, PA peeps out there reading this lemme know. I'll wave the next time I drive by the 33 N on ramp. ;D And I might be taking some Halloween liberties here, because I have no idea if you guys do a zombie walk or not. We do where I'm from, so I've decided Stroudsburg gets one too. ;D
> 
> ********************************************************************************************

Bucky seemed okay with the whole co-pilot thing. Well, mostly. Darcy was still having a hard time figuring out what was going on in his head, other than the fact that he liked french fries, and making fun of Steve. She was mostly sure about the fries though. Bucky had only made one joke about Steve, but despite all the protesting, he ended up eating two thirds of her fries.

Darcy was just gonna be the bigger person, and let that slide in the name of progress.

Anyway, there was only one minor speedbump with the co-pilot situation. She and Bucky left Steve and Natasha behind to pay while they headed out to the SUV. As soon as arrived back at vehicle, both Bucky and Darcy went straight for the drivers side. 

“Oh, um...I was gonna…” Darcy said, waving her hand at the car door. “You know. Unless you really want to.”

They were interrupted by Steve yelling, “Catch,” as he and Natasha left the diner for the parking lot. 

Seconds later something whizzed by her head, and Bucky’s left hand immediately shot up, catching whatever it was. It turned out to be the keys, which he passed to his right hand before holding them out to her. 

The small, self-conscious gesture wasn’t lost on Darcy. Neither was the fact that he’d kept his hoodie on the entire time in the car, or that he shoved his cybernetic hand into his pocket as soon as the switch was made even though he was wearing a glove to hide it. She wasn’t sure if Bucky thought touching it would bother her, or if it was the other way around, and he felt uncomfortable about it. Either way, it tugged on her heartstrings, but she’d only just gotten him talking, and she suspected he'd clam up again if she asked about it.

“Alright, co-pilot Barnes,” Darcy said, as she hit the button to unlock the doors, “let’s show these two losers how to road trip.”

“We can hear you, you know,” Steve responded while pulling the door open for Natasha. 

Darcy popped her own door open, and turned to stick her tongue out at him. “Sorta the point, Cap.” 

She slid in behind the wheel, and turned the key in the ignition. The GPS lit up, and Friday’s pleasant voice came over the speakers. “Hello, Ms. Lewis.”

“Hey Friday, how’s it looking out there?” she replied.

“I’d say smooth sailing at the moment. No traffic obstructions other than a slight backup at the next tollbooth,” the AI told her. “Will you be continuing on your present route?”

Darcy glanced back at Steve for confirmation, and he nodded. “Yep,” she said. “You can use the same directions as before. Can you access the playlist I made called Tents Can Suck It, too?”

“It would be my pleasure,” the AI said to her. 

Within minutes they were back on track, Darcy’s playlist in full effect. Bucky had raised his eyebrows once at the choice of music, but hadn’t commented. There was no such luck with Natasha, though.

“What _is_ this?” she questioned from the back.

“Wagon Wheel,” Darcy replied. “It’s the quintessential road trip song. Feel free to sing along.”

“It has banjos,” Nat stated in a way that left no doubt as to what her feelings on banjos were.

“It’s very, um, rustic,” Steve said. “Not that rustic is bad…exactly. Just unexpected.”

Darcy rolled her eyes at them in the mirror. “Oh my God, you guys. It’s one song. Did I complain about three hours of Marvin Gaye, and Smokey Robinson and the Miracles? No. I did not.”

“That’s because nobody complains about Marvin Gaye,” Natasha said. “There is nothing to complain about.”

“Despite the fact that I can’t argue your point, I am maintaining that three hours of Marvin Gaye is more than enough Marvin Gaye for anyone. Except maybe Sam. And anyway, it’s not like my playlist is all banjo-centric. It’s pretty much just this one song...and like...okay, maybe four others, but this is the banjoey-est,” Darcy replied. 

“That’s not even an actual word,” Nat remarked. 

“Sure it is. It’s just old. From you know, back when everyone had a banjo.”

“I see. Steve you want to take this one?”

Steve shook his head at Natasha. “Sorry. That must have been before my time.”

"There. See? Steve totally just confirmed it," Darcy insisted.

"No he didn't."

"Yes he did. Just accept the truth. It's a thing."

“It’s not a thing,” Natasha replied. “It never will be a thing.”

“Whatever. Don’t think I’ll forget you picking on Old Crow Medicine Show when it’s your turn, and you try to put the Nutcracker on or something.”

“The Nutcracker is a beautiful, classic piece of music.”

“It’s Tetris music. I can never hear it without panicking that I’m not going to be able to fit that weird z-shaped square cluster in anywhere.” Darcy made a face. “Worst shape ever. Just thinking about it gives me anxiety. Whoever invented that game was a complete sadist.”

“What’s a Tetris?” Bucky asked. 

“Don’t,” Steve advised him. “Trust me. It’s best to stay out of this one.”

“Tetris is a video game,” Darcy answered. “A terrible, horrible video game that Natasha loves.”

“Just because you don’t excel at it…” Natasha began.

“Because it’s awful,” Darcy interjected. “Seriously, Bucky. Don’t let her talk you into playing it. She’s got an old NES set up in her apartment, that she uses to suck in unsuspecting victims with empty promises of 80s nostalgia. I got talked into playing because she offered Legend of Zelda, but it turned into a Tetris gateway drug.” 

“That’s hardly what happened, and you did get to play Legend of Zelda, so I fail to see the problem here,” Nat said with a shrug.

“You conned me,” Darcy replied.

“I didn’t con you.”

“Yes you did. You used your sneaky spysassin wiles to con me into Tetris. Admit it.”

“Look, I offered…”

“Conned.”

Natasha started to smile. “Fine. I conned you into it.”

“See?” Darcy pointed at her in the rearview. “You all heard that. I have witnesses to the Tetris con! Witnesses, Natasha!”

“It would probably help your case if both your witnesses weren’t aware of my capabilities. As it stands, I doubt they’ll be much help. Watch.” She turned to Steve. “Did you hear me say I conned Darcy into playing Tetris?”

“Not sure. I might have been looking out the window when that happened,” he said with a grin. “Sorry Darcy.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes at him in the mirror. “I’ll remember this when it’s time to buy your Christmas gift, Mr. Truth and Justice.”

“Actually, it’s Captain Truth and Justice,” Steve replied, still grinning.

“Don’t you mean Captain Benedict Arnold,” she huffed.

“Benedict Arnold was a general,” he corrected. “But I’ll take the promotion if you’re offering.”

“You are so totally getting coal this year, Cap. I’m serious. So much coal from Darcy Claus.”

“Are you done threatening him?” Natasha asked. “Because I have another operative to compromise here.”

“You’re not turning Bucky,” Darcy replied. “He’s my co-pilot. We have an understanding. Right, Bucky?” She glanced at him hopefully. “You heard her say the thing, didn’t you?”

Bucky looked at Darcy for a long moment, and then swiveled in his seat so he was facing Nat. She raised one eyebrow expectantly as she waited. Darcy had no idea what he actually said to her, because it was all in Russian. All she knew was that she definitely won, because Natasha just smirked at him and said, “Well played, _traitor_.”

Then he winked at Darcy as he was settling back around in his seat. That might have been her favorite part.

Another hour passed relatively quickly now that people were actually talking. Darcy found some stuff on her playlist they could all agree on, and she split her attention between joining the conversation, watching the road, and listening for Friday’s directions on the GPS. Not that there were many directions. It was pretty much a straight shot down 81 until they got further into Pennsylvania. 

Things were going incredibly well, actually. Which more or less ensured that they were going to fall apart in Darcy’s book. 

“Hey Steve,” she said, looking at the route on the GPS, and frowning at the myriad of flashing red suddenly showing up further down the road. “What time are we supposed to get to that rest stop in Maryland? Noon?”

“Around then,” he replied. “Why?”

Before Darcy could reply, Friday’s voice drowned out the road trip playlist on the speakers. “I’m sorry, Captain, but there appears to be an overturned tractor trailer blocking your current route in approximately twelve miles. All traffic has been halted, and there is no estimated time for it to resume. I am also showing delays in Maryland now as well. Shall I calibrate an alternate route using secondary roads?”

“That would be helpful,” Steve answered, suddenly all business.

There was a second or two of silence, and then Friday said, “Alternate route calibrated. It includes secondary roads, and will add four and a half hours to the driving time. Would you like me to update the map?”

Natasha spoke so quietly to Steve then, that if Darcy hadn’t been looking up at them in the rearview, she never would have heard it. “Won’t that put us in DC during rush hour?”

A brief, silent conversation played out between the two, and then Steve said, “Friday, can you get us the coordinates to the nearest KOA.”

“Certainly, Captain Rogers,” the AI responded. A moment passed, and she came back. “There is one within fifteen miles of the nearest exit. Shall I book a reservation for you?”

“Please,” Steve requested.

“Reservations booked, and new route calibrated. Will there be anything else?”

“No, that’s it. Thank you, Friday.”

“You’re welcome, Captain.”

Darcy watched as the new GPS coordinates came up on the screen. Their new destination was a campground near somewhere called Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania, and, oh God, it was in the _Poconos_. As in cold, and mountains, and _cold_.

This was definitely not welcome news. As much as she hated the idea of camping, the first campground was supposed to be in Maryland which was still boasting pretty balmy temperatures at the moment. Darcy had absolutely not signed up for freezing her ass off in the wilds of Pennsylvania.

Still, there was obviously something she didn’t understand going on regarding rush hour in DC. That much was clear. Darcy wasn’t sure what was up, but either Steve and Nat were afraid of being caught in heavy traffic where they were unable to maneuver away from threats, or they were afraid to have Bucky trapped in heavy traffic due to the stressful situation potentially triggering him. Or both, and if Darcy had to guess, it was probably both. Scary.

So she kept all her complaints about camping in frigid temperatures to herself, and followed the directions on the little screen. Nobody was talking much again, or at least not until they actually reached the small town near the campground. It was similar to the places around the Avengers training facility. One long main street lined with a mix of Victorian and more modern style buildings, boasting everything from ski shops to an honest to god five and dime that looked as if it had been there since the 1910s. 

The best part was that the whole place was decorated for Halloween. Fake cobwebs were wound around the lamp posts, and the wrought iron baskets suspended on them were full of ornamental gourds and chrysanthemums. The marquee on an old school movie theater advertised an upcoming zombie walk, and most of the shopfronts had some kind of spooky decor in the windows.

“Cute town,” Natasha said, and Steve made a sound of agreement. 

“Maybe we could check it out after we set up camp,” he replied. “We’ll need to pick up some supplies if we’re staying over night anyway. What do you think, Buck?”

Bucky, who hadn’t said a word since Friday had alerted them to the traffic issues, shifted restlessly in his seat. “I’m game for whatever you guys want.”

Steve nodded. “Darcy?”

“I’m in as long as the supplies include chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers,” she told him.

“You got it,” he said. “Now, let’s find that campground so we can unpack.”

Darcy gave him thumbs up, and followed the GPS as it took them out through the far end of town, and into the campground. Steve and Bucky went inside to get directions to the campsite, and Darcy was left alone in the vehicle with Natasha while they waited.

“So,” Nat said, smiling slyly at her, “still think Bucky hates you?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Is this because I got him to begrudgingly eat my fries? Because we both know those two will eat anything put in front of them as long as it’s on a plate, and roughly resembles food.”

“He agreed to be your co-pilot pretty quickly."

“No. I _told_ him we were co-pilots. He just didn’t say no.”

“Mmhmm.” Natasha sat back, shaking her head at Darcy. “Think what you will, but you don’t know what he said to me earlier during the Tetris discussion.”

Darcy immediately wanted to know what it was Bucky said, but she positively refused to ask and give Natasha the satisfaction. Her resolve lasted all of twenty seconds. “Fine. Whatever. What did he say?”

“Oh look, here they come. Too bad. I guess I don’t have time to translate for you after all.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Nat asserted. “You love me, and you’re going to continue to love me, because I know what Bucky said and you don’t.”

The boys had reached the car by that point, effectively shutting down any response from Darcy. Steve tapped on her door with his knuckles, holding up a hand drawn map with a star to indicate their campsite on it. She lowered the automatic window, and he handed it through.

“Can you follow that?” he asked.

Darcy looked at it, and then said, “Yep. Take the main road for a quarter of a mile, make the second left, and we’re the third site off on the right. It’s number eighty-six. What’s this square thing right here?” She pointed at a large block off to the side between their site and the one next to it.

“Those are the facilities,” Steve replied.

She cut right to the chase and asked the most important question. “When you say facilities, are we talking just bathrooms, or showers too?”

“Both,” he answered.

Darcy didn’t even hide her sigh of relief. She could handle one night in the freezing cold if she got a hot shower in the morning, even if the woods around them did look like a scene straight out of Deliverance. Damn it was creepy. So many bush type things that knife wielding maniacs could hide behind. Of course...Darcy was sort of camping _with_ a knife wielding maniac...so maybe that cancelled the others out.

Although 'maniac' seemed like an unfair way to describe the guy sitting across the SUV from her. Bucky currently looked more lost puppy than Michael Myers. He was staring down at his hands in his lap with a morose expression on his face. Darcy realized he must know that the other two decided on this impromptu overnight stop because of him, and she wasn’t going to add to his discomfort by acting like a baby over spending a night in a tent.

“So, ever have s’mores, co-pilot Barnes?” she asked brightly, as she waited for Steve to get back inside before exiting the parking lot, and following the directions to the campsite.

He gave her a long sideways glance. “If I have, I don’t remember it.”

“Well you are in luck then, because once someone has s’mores a la Darcy, they can never, ever go back. It’s kind of life changing.” She grinned at him. “The only problem is that they’ll ruin you for any other chocolate, cookie, and toasted marshmallow creation forever.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I would never lie about something like that. Trust me. I take my dessert-related foods very seriously.” 

“If you say so,” Bucky replied.

“I’m saddened by your lack of faith, but whatever. You’ll change your tune after you taste one,” Darcy told him. 

They’d arrived at the gravel road that led to the campsite, and Darcy slowed, creeping along until she found the marker for eighty-six.

It was as bad as Darcy thought. A tiny clearing in the trees like every other tiny clearing in the trees, except theirs didn’t have any tents on it yet. What it _did_ have was a shit ton of damp, dead leaves on the ground, and what looked like a thriving patch of poison oak near the picnic table. There was a circle of metal on the ground a little over a foot high, with a grate over the top that Darcy assumed was for cooking. And heat. Ugh. The weather was already chilly, and it was probably the warmest part of the day. She didn’t even want to think of what it would be like at night.

“Everything alright up there, Darcy?” Steve asked, and Darcy realized she was still idling in the small parking spot next to their camp, instead of, you know...parking.

“Yeah, no. Everything’s fine. Camping. I love camping. Nature, fresh air, and cooking with fire. I’m totally stoked.” 

She threw the vehicle into park, and unlocked the doors. This was fine. It was cool. She was going to suck it up, and be an awesome outdoors woman. She'd even put up her own tent and impress the fuck out of all of them.

A spider drifted down from one of the overhead branches on thin line of silk, landed on the windshield, and skittered away god knows where. 

Yeah, she wasn't surviving the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will contain a truckload of flirty fluff. Or at least, flirty for a hermit. You have been warned.


	4. Pennsylvania: Home of the Chocolate-Marshmallow Zombie Engagement Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy gets engaged, Bucky has a moment, and Steve embraces his dad qualities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not be a day late on this update again, but omg this chapter is LOOOOOOOONG. Super long. So hopefully that makes up for it being late. I think maybe I should just say weekly updates instead of Monday updates, because Mondays apparently hate me. Anyway. There is more fluff coming up in the next chapter. Fluff with snuggling. At least there will be if I can get everyone to cooperate. _This_ chapter turned into a whole different thing than I expected, so we'll see. :D
> 
> *******************************************************************************

Bucky had spent the past thirty minutes watching Darcy abuse and mangle her tent without successfully getting it standing once. This time, though, he thought she just might manage it. All the posts seemed to be in, and more or less configured correctly. Well, as much as he could tell, anyway. It was hard to be certain when he was attempting to observe her without getting caught.

He couldn’t fault her for having trouble with it. The tent she’d ended up with was one of the most complicated ones Bucky had ever seen. If the covert amused looks Steve and Natasha kept exchanging were anything to go by, they’d had a hand in its selection. Why the hell the two of them would do something like that was unclear, but Bucky thought he had a pretty good idea. 

Darcy had the tent standing now, and was wrestling with securing it to the ground using a rock to smash in the pegs. At the rate things were going, Bucky suspected one stiff breeze would turn the whole mess into a box kite. Steve caught Bucky’s eye, and jerked his head in the direction of the impending disaster and its engineer. The implication was obvious, and just confirmed what Bucky figured. Those two matchmaking morons had done this on purpose so Bucky would have to help. He decided then and there that if they came under attack by bears in the night, Steve and Natasha could fight them off on their own while he got Darcy to safety.

Still. She was never going to get that tent secured without help. Fuck it. He was going to offer.

“Hey, uh...Lewis? You need a hand?” he asked her.

She paused, brushing some loose strands of hair out of her face before speaking. “Nope. I’ve totally got this. Five more minutes and I’ll be golden.”

Five more minutes and the whole thing would probably be in a pile on the ground, or blown halfway down to the lake, but Bucky didn’t say that to her. “You sure? Because I could…”

“Really. I’m good. This tent has totally bent to my iron will, dude,” Darcy insisted. “I’m literally three pegs and one sleeping bag away from having a domicile.”

“We’ve got a mallet if you need one,” Natasha said, holding it up.

“Nah. This rock and I have formed a close, personal relationship. If I left him for the mallet he would be hurt.” She hefted the rock up, patting the rough surface. “It’s okay, baby. I’d never dump you for Mjolnir’s loser cousin.”

Bucky half-turned, ducking his head to hide a smile. He wasn’t fast enough to avoid her noticing, though.

“Are you laughing at my boyfriend?” Darcy put her hand on her hip and demanded. 

“Now why would I do that? The two of you seem very happy together,” Bucky said, still grinning. 

“Oh, believe me, we are. Rock is very stable, and he’s been helping me get this tent set up like a champ. I don’t see you pounding these pegs in.”

“I offered.” Was she flirting with him? 

“Excuse you, but you didn’t offer until _after_ Rock had already pitched in,” Darcy replied. “Which was a little rude considering the circumstances. It’s not nice to make Rock jealous.”

She _was_ flirting, and Bucky needed to get his head out of his ass and remember how to do this. It was either that, or spend the rest of the trip acting like an awkward kid who’d never talked to a dame before, and he was so goddamn sick of being worse at this than Steve used to be.

“In my defense, I had no idea the two of you were going steady,” he said.

“Actually, we’re engaged,” Darcy corrected.

His jaw dropped. “What, you and the rock? In the past two minutes? Guy sure is a fast worker.” 

“Rock felt like it was pointless to wait when we both know it’s inevitable,” she sniffed. “I agree with him.”

“Huh.” Bucky leaned forward, checking out her hand. “He didn’t spring for a diamond?” His tone made it clear what he thought of guys who proposed without a ring.

“He’s a rock, duh. A diamond would sort of be redundant. Besides, we’re above that sort of thing.” She shrugged. “We connect on a higher plane. Anyway, if you’ll excuse us, my fiancé and I need to get the rest of these pegs in.”

“Sure. Don’t stop on my account,” he said. 

“We won’t,” Darcy replied cheerfully, and ducked back around the other side of the tent with her fiancé in hand. Moments later a steady clang of rock against metal started up again. Bucky was just about to move back to his own tent when Darcy’s head popped up over the nylon dome of hers. “Hey, neighbor. We’re a peg short over here. Did I leave one lying around on that side?”

He glanced down at the ground for the missing peg and spotted it in a pile of leaves nearby. While he was retrieving it for her, Bucky noticed how the one holding down the nearest corner of Darcy’s tent was sticking up a good half-inch above the grommet. Rock apparently wasn’t the skilled woodsman Darcy thought he was. Bucky stealthily stomped it flush with the ground using the heel of his boot while handing the lost peg over to her. “Here.”

“Thanks,” she said, plucking it out of his hand. 

It wasn’t until she had crouched down out of his sight again, that Bucky realized he’d used his left hand to pass it to her. 

She hadn’t flinched away.

Truth be told, she hadn’t done anything. Just took the small piece of metal from him like it was no big deal. Bucky didn’t even know he was standing there staring down at his cybernetic fingertips protruding from the openings of the leather glove he was wearing until he felt Steve’s hand clap down on his shoulder from behind.

“I think the girls have got it under control here. Why don’t we go find some firewood?” he said.

Bucky got the subtext immediately. He’d been parked next to Darcy’s tent doing nothing for long enough that she might notice. “Yeah.” He straightening up. “Let’s do that.”

“Have fun boys,” Natasha said, as they headed into the woods. 

Then Bucky saw her tap her ear, and Steve gave her an almost imperceptible nod. It wasn’t hard to figure out what that was all about. 

“You’re wearing a comm?” he asked Steve as soon as the campground fell away behind them.

Steve rolled his shoulders under his jacket, a tell that Bucky couldn’t fail to recognize. “It’s just a precautionary measure.”

“A ‘precautionary measure’ like wanting to get around DC without traffic?”

And there it was. The shamefaced expression that always followed the twitchy shoulders. 

“We’re just trying to keep things running smoothly.”

“In other words, you’re trying to keep _me_ running smoothly.” Bucky looked away, shaking his head before turning back to Steve. “She listening right now? In case I lose it, and go rogue in the woods?”

“It’s not like that, Buck.”

“No?” he said sharply, and stopped walking, forcing Steve to stop as well. “Then what’s it like?”

“You really wanna know? I’ll tell you. We don’t know what the climate is like in DC right now. Natasha has some connections, but most of them were compromised when she uploaded those files to the net in Pierce’s office. We’ve been trying to stamp out all the HYDRA remnants that were left, but do you really want to trap Darcy in standstill traffic with us on the Capital Beltway?” Steve asked. “HYDRA isn’t going to hesitate to use heavy artillery on a public roadway if they think they can knock you, me, and Nat out at once. Darcy and anyone else around us would be collateral damage. You know they don’t care about that.”

Bucky could feel his gorge rising. He knew all too well how his former _employers_ would treat the death of one civilian girl if it meant removing Steve, Natasha, and himself from the picture. They didn’t give two shits how many had to die as long as the objective was achieved, and they could find a way to cover it up. “And the comm?”

“Simple. We spot trouble here, or Natasha spots trouble where she is, the four of us have a line of communication. Otherwise she and Darcy are on her own defending a campground full of innocent people if things go south. Not that I think they can’t handle it, but wouldn’t you rather be on hand in case something goes wrong?”

He doubted an attack on the camp, or danger to civilians on the Beltway, was all Steve was worried about. HYDRA didn’t like losing their toys, and Bucky had been a valuable pet project for longer than most of the current agents had been on this Earth. He knew too much about the Avengers and training facility in upstate New York now. If they recaptured him, the entire Avengers Initiative and everyone involved would be put in jeopardy.

But Darcy? Steve was right. She was in danger every second she was around them. Around Bucky himself, really. The thought of her being hurt because of him turned his stomach.

Steve must have taken Bucky’s silence for the end of the conversation. He’d moved away, picking up a large fallen branch and examining it. “How about this one? Feels pretty dry. We could break it up for firewood.”

“Why did you bring her along if you thought having her with us was so dangerous?” Bucky asked.

Glancing up from the branch, Steve said, “Thought we covered this in the diner earlier.”

“We covered how every second Darcy is around us, her life is in danger? ‘Cause I don’t remember that part.”

“Darcy was aware of the personal safety issues long before she took the job with the Avengers,” Steve replied. “She’s more familiar with how things work around here than you think. You ever see the SHIELD footage from the attacks on Puente Antiguo, or London?”

Bucky shook his head. “Must of missed that in her file. Not that I was looking.”

“I think it’s time we fixed that.” Steve pulled his phone out. “Friday, access the New Mexico fire footage from Agent Lewis’ file.” There was a pause where Friday must have been replying in Steve’s comm, and then he handed the phone over to Bucky. “Watch.”

There was no sound, and the video quality was pretty grainy, but Bucky could make out the unmistakable form of Darcy running into a burning building. Seconds later she reappeared, coughing and carrying what looked like a tank full of guinea pigs. She set it down on the sidewalk before darting back inside. All told she made more than a dozen trips back and forth to rescue the trapped animals. By the time she came out with the last one, a scruffy looking little terrier-type dog, Bucky was starting to panic about the roof caving in over her.

“Jesus,” he said. “She even saved the damn goldfish. Who saves fish?”

“I asked Darcy about that once,” Steve said with a smile. “She told me that she was afraid the flame retardant foam the fire department uses would kill them, or that the heat would burst the glass in their tanks."

"She saved all of them?"

"All but one rabbit. Couldn't get to it in time. Don't mention that to her, though. The only reason I know that is from reading Coulson’s report. Darcy won’t talk about it. I think she sees it as a personal failure.”

“She lost one,” Bucky surmised.

“Yeah,” Steve replied, meeting his eyes with a look of understanding. “She lost one.”

The video had shut down after Darcy came out with the dog. Bucky almost wanted to play it again, but he was curious about London. “You said there was another one?”

“Friday, could you play the London footage now? Specifically the video feed that includes Agent Lewis.”

Again there was a short pause, and then the screen filled with another scene. This time there was sound, and Bucky could hear the faint sounds of Jane and Darcy yelling back and forth as they ran around with some kind of equipment. Darcy was accompanied by a pasty-looking guy in a puffy vest who was struggling to keep up with her. He also looked fairly terrified. Not Darcy, though. She was dodging falling cars and whatever the hell the guys with pointy ears were, in an effort to get the strange equipment placed wherever Jane needed it to be. 

The video was shorter than the first, switching from various angles, and losing sound as the feed changed to what he assumed must be cctv. Bucky found himself completely absorbed in trying to cut through the chaos and understand what was going on. Then Darcy disappeared.

Seconds ticked by while he gripped the phone more tightly, waiting for her to make a reappearance, then… “You’re kidding me. She’s kissing that guy?”

Steve chuckled. “I was waiting for you to get to that part.”

“He looks like an idiot.” Bucky tilted the phone, watching in satisfaction as Darcy dropped puffy coat onto the ground like a sack of rocks. 

“Ian? I wouldn’t know. Never met him.”

 _Ian_. Bucky hated him already. “So they were what...dating?”

“I don’t think so,” Steve replied. “Although Darcy doesn’t exactly discuss her personal life with me. She was single when she came back from England. I know that much.”

Apparently this Ian character had failed to make much of an impression despite the victory kiss. Good. Bucky handed the phone back to Steve, and watched as he pocketed it. “Don’t say it.”

“What, that you just watched two videos proving that Darcy has no problem with handling peril like a trooper, and the only thing that seems to matter to you was that she planted one on that English kid?” Steve grinned. “Don’t worry, Buck, I won’t say it.”

Bucky sighed. “You know, there are times when I regret not letting a couple of those guys get in a few more hits before rescuing you back when you were skinny.”

“Don’t worry. Next fight we have with some big bad, I’ll take a few on the chin to even the score.” Steve rolled his shoulders again, but this time there was restlessness to it. He wanted to get moving on the task at hand. “So, did I make my point here, or do we need to dig up more video? I think we’ve got some of her sitting on a roof in case you’re worried about heights too.”

Bucky snorted, shaking his head 'no'.

“We’re on the same page then?”

“Yeah. For now.” Until he could come up with another reason why he was bad for her, he thought but didn’t add. There were probably thousands of those.

It wasn’t lost on Steve, though. “You need to stop worrying so much. All of us have something that makes this kind of thing complicated. The trick is not letting it make the decision for you, otherwise we’d all be alone. At least Darcy’s not on the outside, you know? She understands what we do, and why we do it. Don’t discount that.”

“She’s not the problem.”

“So what is it then? You are?”

Bucky crouched down and picked up a few sticks, tucking them under his arm before answering. “Like I told you earlier, there’s nothing a girl like that would want with a guy like me.”

“You mean the girl who was just flirting with you back there? The one who shared a coke with you at the diner? Yeah, I see your point. She’s not remotely interested.” Steve hefted the branch he’d found earlier. “You gonna get anything bigger than those twigs, ‘cause I feel like I’m getting stuck with all the heavy lifting here,”

That seemed to be the end of the conversation. They spent the rest of the time discussing less difficult subjects while the pile of firewood grew between them. 

Finally Steve stepped back and said, “I think this is probably enough.”

Bucky looked at the three foot high stack, rolling his eyes. “You sure about that? We could probably add a couple more trees.”

“We’re never going to hear the end of it if we bring all this back, are we?” his friend asked, surveying the pile sheepishly.

“I don’t know about me, but _you’re_ never gonna hear the end of it. How many times has Natalia asked if we were coming back anytime soon in that comm of yours?”

Steve raised his eyebrows the way he always did when Bucky slipped up and used the Russian version of Natasha’s name. “I dunno. Lost count after the fourth time. We can leave half of this for other campers to find.”

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s get a move on before the girls come looking for us.”

Before Bucky could even finish his sentence he could hear the sound of leaves crunching underfoot, and two familiar figures appeared over the crest of a small hill.

“Impressive.” Natasha nodded at the embarrassingly massive pile of logs and tinder. “We’re spending a week then?”

“I knew we shouldn’t have let them do this one their own,” Darcy remarked. “They have zero control over their testosterone.”

Nat hummed in agreement. “You have no idea.”

“Should we help?”

“I think that’s a good idea. Otherwise they might get it in their heads to start chopping trees down, and they’ll be out here all night.”

“Looks like we’ve got a pair of comedians here,” Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah?” Darcy replied dryly. “And what are you two? A pair of lumberjacks?”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at her comment. That didn’t mean he was going to let her get away with it, though. “Where’s your boyfriend, Lewis?” he asked. “Leave him back at the tent?”

“If you’re referring to my fiancé,” she replied, “he was tragically killed in a camping accident ten minutes ago.”

“Rock cracked on the last peg,” Natasha explained. “That’s when we decided to come looking for you two.”

“My condolences on your loss,” Bucky said.

Darcy shrugged nonchalantly. “Eh, just between you and me he was kind of a lousy kisser, and by lousy I mean he didn’t try, like, even _once_ the whole time we were together. It was enough to give a girl a complex.”

“I bet.” Bucky found himself staring at her lips without even realizing he was doing it, and forced his gaze back up to her eyes. “Not to speak ill of the dead, but if you ask me, he sounds like a chump.”

“He had his good points. I’m really just focusing on moving on right now. You know, picking up the shattered pieces of my life, that kind of thing. Keeping busy helps. Anyway, I can carry some of the less super-soldier size pieces if you want,” she said, pointing at the stack of branches he and Steve had collected.

“Me too,” Natasha offered. “As long as you're both done making eyes at each other. I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

“Have some respect, Romanoff. I’m in mourning,” Darcy shot back. She knelt down and scooped up an armload of the smaller tree limbs. “Speaking of interrupting, remember that time I walked in on Steve helping you hold up a refrigerator? Because I’ll never forget it. I didn’t even know Cap _knew_ words like that.”

Steve flushed, and stammered, “That, uh… That was a special case.”

“Hell yeah it was,” she said with a smirk.

“What’s this about a refrigerator?” Bucky asked. It wasn't hard to guess what Darcy was getting at, but he was unable to resist giving Steve some hell over it.

“Nothing, Buck. I was just helping Nat out with something,” Steve replied. “I thought we were getting this firewood back to camp so we can pick up something to eat.”

Darcy’s smirk grew into an all-out grin as she turned to face Bucky. “Steve is very helpful. He’s like a really stacked Eagle Scout,” she said. “How’s it go, Steve? Trustworthy, loyal, courteous, reverent, and good in the kitchen?”

“You forgot clean, brave, and cheerful,” Bucky added. “I never heard of good in the kitchen, though. You get a badge for that, Stevie?”

“Ask Nat,” Darcy said to him. “I think she’s his troop leader.”

“You know, I could take you both out right now, and Steve and I could walk out of these woods without anyone being the wiser,” Natasha cut in. “And yes, he more than earned his merit badge.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask this, but what does a badge like that even look like?” Darcy asked. 

“Probably like something I don’t want to see,” Bucky said.

“I think that’s enough out of you two miscreants,” Steve announced. 

“My offer to kill them both is still on the table,” Natasha said to him.

He shook his head at her ruefully. “I’m tempted to take you up on it, believe me.”

“Nah, we’ll be good,” Bucky said. “Right, Lewis?” 

“Yep,” she nodded solemnly. “We’ll be total angels from here on out. Promise. I’m fresh out of Boy Scout jokes anyway.”

Whether or not that was true, and Bucky suspected it probably wasn’t, Darcy was as good as her word. Steve and Natasha set up a brisk pace on the path, but Darcy lagged behind, shuffling the wood in her arms around to get it more balanced. Bucky dropped back until he was walking alongside her.

“You want me to take a few of those off your hands?” he asked, jerking his chin at the sticks she was trying to juggle.

“I’m okay.” One of the larger sticks tumbled free, and fell to the ground where she promptly stumbled over it. “Famous last words, right?” she said, laughing at herself as she picked it back up.

“Does that mean you’re gonna let me help?”

“Probably not. I’m really stubborn. Unless there’s a spider in here somewhere. Then you can carry all of them, because I’ll be passed out on the ground.”

“In that case I’d probably be carrying you,” Bucky said.

“Oh yeah? How very Disney prince of you, co-pilot Barnes,” she replied, and he made a sound of derision.

“A prince, huh? You sure about that?”

“You just offered to carry me back to camp if I got spidered. That’s pretty chivalrous in my book.”

Bucky glanced over at her. “Well I couldn’t just leave you lying around unconscious. What would Steve think?”

“Oh right. Of course. Steve. Why didn’t I think of that?” Darcy said, and deliberately bumped him with her hip. “I like this.”

“What?”

“Us talking. I like it.”

He liked it too. Enough that just walking next to her had Bucky so keyed up he was aware of every single inch between them, and how the measurement changed with each step they took. It was the same way he calculated the distance between himself and a target, except this just felt...good. He had a knee-jerk reaction to move away, if only to clear a little of heady buzz the smile that accompanied her words had caused. “We should probably catch up. I wouldn’t put it past Steve to start forming search parties if I’m out of sight for too long.”

“He would, wouldn’t he?” Darcy broke into a run, oustripping him, and then turning around to call back, “Come on, loser. I thought you and Cap were supposed to be fast.”

He caught up to her easily, but they didn’t get a chance to talk a whole lot more before reaching Steve and Natasha back at the campground. Darcy was too winded anyway, although she denied it. They stayed at camp only long enough to dump the logs and clean off, before piling into the SUV for the supply run.

When they got into town, they found the main drag had been cordoned off for some reason. A single cop was directing all traffic down side streets. Natasha was driving, and she followed the line of detoured cars until she found an empty parking spot near a corner grocery store. 

“Should we see what this is about first?” she asked, cutting off the ignition.

“It’s a zombie walk,” Darcy replied. “Didn’t you see the thing about it on that old movie theater when we came through earlier?”

Steve immediately turned around the passenger seat. “What’s a zombie walk?”

“Oh. My. God. Are you serious? You’ve never seen one of these? Yeah. We are totally heading up there before we go shopping. I mean, it’s probably not a big one, or anything, but still… You need to see at least one of these in your lifetime. I’m kind of sorry Clint’s not here right now. He’d _love_ this.” She hopped out of the SUV, and then leaned back in impatiently. “Well? Are you guys coming or what?”

A few minutes later they were lined up with a bunch of spectators on the sidewalk staring at an empty street. To Bucky it looked like they were about to watch a parade, except instead of the normal chatter of crowd there was an eerie feeling of nervous anticipation punctuated by small bursts of conversation. Everyone seemed to be straining to hear something while their focus was on an alley at the far end of the street.

Then there was the sound of an airhorn, and Darcy bounced on her toes next to him. “Get ready, dude. Here they come.”

The noises happened first. A chorus of weird groans and shrieks, that got progressively louder as a group of people spilled out of the mouth of the alley. They all seemed to be dressed in torn up clothes, most of them streaked with dirt and fake blood. Some of the participants were pretty basic, white greasepaint with black circles around their eyes, but others looked like real walking corpses complete with film quality special effects that looked like shredded skin, and milky-white irises.

“You’re right,” Natasha said as the group of staggering undead came closer. “Clint would love this.”

“Do you see any fast ones?” Darcy gave a small shudder. “I hate the fast ones.”

“There’s one,” Steve said. 

One of the zombies broke free from the pack, moving with a quick, jerky gait. A few more soon joined it. They began rushing the people on the sidewalks, causing them to backpedal away from the street screaming. Bucky could sense Darcy getting more tense by the second. 

“You alright?” he asked.

She gave a small, huffing laugh. “Yeah, I’m okay. The fast ones just freak me out. I think zombies are cool, but not being able to outrun a zombie? Not cool at all.”

“I’m with you on that,” Natasha said, and Steve looked down at her, clearly surprised.

“Really?” he said.

“What? I’m not allowed to be afraid of anything?”

“No. I’ve just never really seen you scared, that’s all,” he replied.

“Most of the time I can’t afford to be scared, and when I am, I can’t afford to show it,” Nat told him with a shrug. “Hiding it is like second nature.”

“Yup. I call it the Baddass Spysassin Pokerface,” Darcy told them. “I’m working on mine.”

“Don’t.”

Bucky didn’t know he’d spoken aloud until she looked at him and said, “Really? Why not?”

He had no idea what to say. The truth? That he loved the way she couldn’t keep her thoughts and feelings from playing out on her face? Yeah. There was no way he was saying that in front of Natasha and Steve.

The problem was that she was still looking up at him, waiting for a reply. Bucky was trying to come up with something that wouldn’t make him sound like an infatuated schoolboy, when one of the zombies Darcy didn’t like came barreling up to their side of the street. She yelped in surprise, and Bucky reacted instinctively to her panic, pushing her behind him with one hand, and reaching for a weapon with the other. There was an immediate, firm grip high up on his prosthetic arm as Steve took control of the situation.

Steve wasn’t what caught his attention, though. It was the smaller hand around his wrist that did, followed by the press of soft curves against his back. Darcy’s breath was warm on his neck as she said, “No murdering the zombies, co-pilot Barnes. Not that I don’t appreciate the attempt, because holy shit, that guy was scary as fuck, right?”

Bucky went completely still. He could feel the plates in his wrist shifting under her touch, and wondered if she could feel it too through the thin layer of leather overtop. Steve was still watching him carefully, hand tight on his bicep.

“Buck?” he questioned. “We good?”

“Are you kidding me?” Darcy interjected. “He totally just saved my life from that 28 Days Later asshole. We’re fine, right Bucky?” 

Bucky exhaled slowly, forcing his muscles to relax. “Yeah. We’re fine.”

Darcy released his hand, scratching him once between the shoulder blades, before moving until she was standing next to him again. “See?” she said to Steve. “Don’t ground him, dad, please? We want to stay for the rest of the zombies.”

“ _Dad_?” Steve replied. “Really, Darcy?”

“Hey, if the tucked in shirt and khaki’s fit…” she said waving her hand at his clothes, and Natasha laughed.

“I’d rethink the laughter there, Romanoff. If I’m dad, what do you think that makes you?”

“A milf,” she replied.

Darcy smiled. “Totally a milf. Steve’s a dilf, though. Even with his shirt tucked in, and that tan jacket thing he wears.”

“What are you and Bucky then? Siblings?” Steve asked.

“Yep, but we’re adopted, so it’s way less illegal if we…” Darcy clamped her mouth shut mid-sentence.

“Way less illegal if you what?” Natasha inquired, one eyebrow quirked up. For once Bucky was actually appreciative of her prying. 

“Make s’mores together,” Darcy replied innocently. “Is anyone else hungry? Because I am. Let’s get on that shopping.”

“Thought you wanted to stay until the end of the zombie walk,” Steve said, aligning himself with Natasha. “What changed your mind?”

Darcy folded her arms over her chest. “Is that an appliance store over there? I wonder if they sell reinforced refrigerators. Want me to go ask?” 

“I hear they manufacture them in Roanoke,” Natasha responded slyly. “We could make a stop there on our way down to New Orleans if you want.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what the Roanoke comment was about, but he could see Darcy was. She gave Nat a long, appraising glance, and then said, “We seem to have reached a stalemate.”

“Indeed.”

“Shopping?”

“I think that would be wise.”

“Cool.” 

“Are you two staying for the rest of this, or coming along with us?” Natasha asked Steve and Bucky.

Steve narrowed his eyes, glancing between the two girls. “We’ll stay.”

“Suit yourself,” Nat said. “Meet you back at the car in twenty.”

“What the hell is in Roanoke?” Bucky asked after the girls were far enough away that they wouldn’t overhear.

“I don’t know, Buck,” Steve replied. “Sometimes I’ve learned it’s better not to ask.”

Bucky figured that was probably smart. Who even knew with those two? It could be anything.

*******************************************************************************

Making s’mores a la Darcy turned out to be a quite a process. She was trying her best to teach Bucky while they sat side by side on a log in front of Steve’s textbook perfect campfire. He watched intently as she speared a marshmallow on a long metal skewer.

“See, the trick to this,” she said to him, “is holding it near the embers, but not so close that it turns black. Unless you like it that way. _Some_ people are into Jet-Puff briquets, but I’m not here to judge.” She glared pointedly at Natasha, who was eating a blackened marshmallow off the point of her own skewer.

“You know, for someone who claims they aren’t judging, I’m sensing an awful lot of castigation coming from your end of the log,” Nat said.

“You must be mistaken. I’m totally fine with you destroying half a bag of marshmallows with fire.”

“I’ve only had three.”

“Whatever. Stop distracting me while I’m trying to teach Bucky how to do the thing. Now I forgot where we were.” Darcy bit her lip, and Bucky struggled to keep his focus on the cooking lesson. “Oh yeah. Okay, so you hold this over the embers, and turn it constantly until it starts to brown.”

She handed the skewer over, and picked up another one for herself. He waited until she had another marshmallow in place, and then they held both over the spot she indicated. They carefully turned their skewers, Darcy watching like a hawk the whole time.

“Now?” Bucky asked, noticing the ends starting to bubble.

She held up her hand. “Two more seconds… Aaaaaand, now!”

They pulled the marshmallows off the fire at the same time, and Darcy began hunting around for the plate with the graham crackers and chocolate on it.

“You two are ridiculous,” Natasha said.

“You’re just jealous because we are going to have fuckawesome s’mores and you aren’t since you keep ruining your marshmallows.”

“I knew you were judging me.”

“Am I going to have to separate the two of you?” Steve asked while handing the plate over to Darcy. 

“He’s starting to take this dad thing way too seriously,” she whispered loudly to Natasha.

“I know,” Nat said. “Although, between you and me, he’s worse around Bruce and Tony.”

“That’s not surprising. Want a Hershey bar?” Darcy passed a chocolate bar to Natasha. Then she swiveled back around to face Bucky, divvying up two crackers and one chocolate bar for each of them. “Now, you’re going to put the chocolate on the first cracker, and then use the whole thing to slide the marshmallow off the stick. Which I’m going to demonstrate, but first I need to add my secret ingredient.”

She pulled a short, round container out of her sweatshirt pocket, and unscrewed the lid. With her lips pursed in concentration, Darcy sprinkled a small amount of whatever was in the bottle on top of their pieces of chocolate.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I’m not going to tell you until after you taste it. You’ll just have to trust me,” she replied. “Alright, here goes nothing.” She trapped the marshmallow between the chocolate and graham crackers, and slid it off the stick, using it to gesture at him once she was done. “Your turn.”

Bucky imitated her technique, using his right hand to pinch it between the crackers, but the marshmallow refused to cooperate when he went to slide it off. 

“You need to squeeze it tighter or it’s all gonna end up on the stick,” Darcy said, putting her already made s’more down on the plate. “Here. Like this.”

She cupped her fingers around his, increasing the pressure as she moved both their hands together slowly down the skewer. A jittery, overheated feeling shot through Bucky that had nothing to do with the fire. Darcy was completely oblivious, totally absorbed in getting his s’more off in one piece.

“There!” she exclaimed triumphantly, holding it out for him. “I may not be able to punch through walls, or use a fancy shield like a weapon, but I’m a goddamn genius when it comes to s’mores.”

“Yeah, that was something,” he said taking it from her. If she only knew.

Darcy leaned towards him expectantly. “Go ahead. Eat it.”

He looked down at the s’more, not sure where to start. It was oozing out everywhere. 

“You need to stop worrying about getting it on you,” she said, picking her own up. “Just accept that it’s going to happen, and take a bite.”

As if to make a point, she bit into the one she was holding, closing her eyes and moaning as she chewed. “Oh my _God_ , so good. You totally need to get in on this.” 

_Christ_. She was killing him.

“I think the lady is waiting to see if you like her cooking, Buck,” Steve said, grinning like a fucking idiot at him from across the firepit.

“You wouldn’t want to seem impolite,” Natasha added.

Bucky was going to suffocate them both in their sleep. Darcy had finished her s’more and was licking chocolate off the tip of one finger. Fuck him sideways, he just needed to eat the damn thing so he could thank her and retreat to his tent where he could regroup.

So he did. Except that the second he got his first mouthful Bucky understood what she meant about it being mind-blowing. Darcy’s whole face lit up when she saw how much he liked it. 

“I know, right?” she said delightedly. “It’s the cinnamon. Makes it taste like hot chocolate.”

“That’s what was in the jar?” he asked, and she nodded. He finished what was left in two bites, swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

She looked at him for moment, and then lifted her hand, hesitating when it was level with his face. “You, um...you missed a spot," she said, rubbing a lingering trace of chocolate off his bottom lip. 

“Did I?” he asked, swallowing thickly.

“Uhuh. Don’t worry, I got it,” Darcy said. Then she absentmindedly popped the tip of her thumb into her mouth, and sucked off the chocolate residue.

He stood up abruptly, almost knocking over the plate sitting ground at his feet. “I should hit the hay. We’ve got a long drive tomorrow.”

“What?” She blinked in confusion, and then shook her head. “Oh yeah. Sleep. Me too.”

“You two go ahead, we can take care of the fire, and cleaning stuff up,” Natasha said.

“Okay,” Darcy replied, arching her back as she stretched. “Goodnight, guys.”

It was the last thing Bucky saw before he escaped inside his tent, and zipped the flap closed tight behind him.


	5. Spot and James

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has a hard time staying in his own damn tent, and Darcy is kind of very okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting pretty flipping fluffy up in here. Hope everyone is good with that. ;)  
> In other news, Anniemar was awesomely amazing when I was flailing over this chapter. She's the best. Thank you, Annie!!!!
> 
> *********************************************************************************

Darcy woke feeling muzzy and confused. Birds were chirping loudly somewhere outside her closed eyelids, and she groaned, rolling over to bury head in the pillow. Then she heard the buzz of familiar voices mixing with the birdsong, and memories of the night before came rushing back.

Camping. Zombies. The tense ride in the SUV. They had all tangled together in her subconscious, and the end result was one of the worst nightmares of Darcy’s life. Sometime around three am, she’d woke up gasping in fear to find Bucky crouched over her, worry etched in his face. Darcy scrambled up in a panic, not sure what was going on. 

“Don’t scream,” he said. “It’s just me.”

“I won’t.” She gazed up at him, still fighting off the terror from her dream, and unsure about what was happening. “Why are you in my tent? Is something wrong?”

Bucky rocked back on his heels, and raked his hand through his hair. “I woke up and heard you thrashing around, and yelling. Jesus, doll, I thought someone was killing you. So I came to see if you were alright.”

“I was dreaming...a nightmare really. There were all these zombies chasing us, and we had to get out of the car and hide in the woods, but I was too slow. It was like my legs wouldn't work right, or I was running through molasses. And then…” She frowned. “Wait. Did you just call me ‘doll’?”

“I… What?” His brow furrowed like he was trying to piece through her words. 

“Nothing. It’s not important,” Darcy replied, shivering all over. Between the nightmare, and him being in her tent, her heart was hammering. 

Bucky reached out with both hands as if to rub her arms, and then appeared to change his mind, letting them drop to his sides. “You want me to see if I can find any extra blankets?”

“No. I’m okay,” She hitched the sleeping bag up around her shoulders. “Worst dream ever, though. I’ll never be able to get back to sleep now.”

“Still seeing zombies?”

“Yeah. Stupid, right?”

“Nah,” Bucky said, shaking his head. “Everyone’s afraid of something. What was it you said last night about Natasha’s charred marshmallows? You don’t judge? I won’t judge either.”

Darcy leaned back against the wall of her tent, gazing up at him thoughtfully.

“What?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She chewed on her lip, thinking. “You aren’t what I expected.”

“That a good thing or a bad thing?” 

“Good, I think. Hey, can I ask you something totally inappropriate? You’re free to say no. I promise.”

His posture stiffened, eyes narrowing warily. “Okay.”

“Will you stay up with me? I mean, it’s fine if you don’t want to, but I just… I think I’d feel better if I had someone to talk to for a little while.”

“What...in here?” Bucky glanced around the small space, and she nodded.

“If that bothers you we could go sit at the picnic table. I just don’t want to be alone.”

That was absolutely the last thing she wanted to do, but Darcy would take freezing her ass off at a picnic table over being alone waiting for an imaginary undead maniac to come eat her face off any night.

He was completely silent for a few seconds longer, and then said, “I’ll get my sleeping bag.”

She blinked. Did that mean he planned on staying all night? Not that Darcy minded. But...did it? Bucky must have picked up on her thoughts, because he suddenly looked unsure.

“I could just sleep outside your tent instead if you want,” he offered, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are you serious? You’d turn into a popsicle.” The minute the words were out of her mouth she wanted to die. Nothing like reminding the poor guy of his time time in cryo when he was finally opening up a little. She was a fucking idiot.

Once again, Bucky appeared to read her thoughts. One side of his mouth curled up into a half-smile, and he said, “I’ve had worse.”

Darcy thought she could feel the relief all the way down to her toes. It wasn’t the only thing she was feeling. Bucky’s crooked grin was kind of doing it for her. And that was absolutely not something she needed to be noticing when he was about to spend the night in her tent.

“Just sleep in here. I don’t want to be responsible for you catching hypothermia.”

“You worrying about me now?” he asked.

“No,” Darcy replied, having a sudden flash of inspiration. “I can’t let you get sick on my watch. What would Steve think?”

He just looked at her, and then started to laugh. “Cute.”

“I’m always cute. Go get your sleeping bag before Steve and Natasha wake up and catch you in here. Unless you _want_ Natasha to give us shit tomorrow.”

That got him moving. He reappeared in the opening of her tent a short time later, sleeping bag bunched in his arms. She wriggled over closer to the nylon wall behind her to give him more room to spread it out. Once he had it situated, Bucky sat down on top of it with one leg stretched out in front of him, and the other bent up at the knee.

“So,” he said, “what did you want to talk about?”

“No idea. Anything really. Tell me something I don’t know.” Darcy scrunched down in her sleeping bag, rolling onto one side so she she was facing him with her head propped up on her palm.

“Something you don’t know about me?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t have to be a secret. Just something I don’t know. Like, okay. Steve calls you Bucky, right? Does anyone ever call you James?”

He shook his head. “Not really. Even when I was a kid, the only one who called me James was my mother...and that was usually when I was in trouble.”

“So where did the nickname come from? How did Buchanan turn into Bucky?”

“My pop. At least I think it was him. Could’ve been the other guys at school. My memories are a little hazy back that far. What about you? You got any nicknames, or does everyone just call you Darcy?”

“Darcy,” she said. “Although...alright, my older brother still calls me Spot sometimes because apparently someone asked me once what I wanted to be when I grew up, and I said I wanted to be a dalmatian. In my defense, I was about three, and 101 Dalmations was my favorite movie.”

Bucky grinned. “Spot?”

“Shut up.”

“No, I like it. Spot Lewis. It’s uh…” He cocked his chin like he was thinking of the word he wanted. “...unique.”

“I’m starting to wish I’d taken my chances with the zombies,” she said, rolling her eyes at him.

“Hey, I could always go back to my tent if I’ve overstayed my welcome,” he teased, acting like he was going to roll up his sleeping bag. “I know when I’m not wanted.”

“Sit back down right now, co-pilot Barnes,” she ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky replied, and promptly resumed his position on the sleeping bag.

Apparently one good ‘yes ma’am’ was all it took to get her motor running, because Darcy had a sudden, and very specific, idea of how to wipe the smirk off his face. Not that her motor hadn’t been running since she’d woken up and found him in her tent. She needed to get a handle on her primitive lizard before it talked her into doing something stupid.

If only something stupid didn’t sound so totally good at the moment. Fuck you, primitive lizard, Darcy was absolutely not jumping on the nice man who was protecting her from imaginary zombies. Because that would be wrong, and bad, and… Bucky was staring at her again. She really needed to stop before he figured out what she was thinking, something that he appeared to be far to good at.

“Okay,” she said in an effort to distract him, “I told you about spot, it’s your turn again. Tell something else I don’t know.”

“Alright. Lemme think.” His brow furrowed briefly and then smiled. “I can cook.”

“You can cook, or you're good at cooking? Because it’s not the same thing.”

“I’ll make breakfast tomorrow, and you can decide.”

“Breakfast foods don’t count,” Darcy scoffed. “Anyone can fry an egg.”

“Fine. When we get back to the Avengers facility I’ll make you whatever you want,” Bucky said.

“You’re going to cook for me?”

“That’s the plan.”

“No. I’m serious. When we get back to New York you're going to cook for me? Like, actual food?”

“There an echo in here? Because I think I just said that.”

She sat up, tugging the sleeping bag up with her. “Okay. Who the hell are you, and what have you done with Bucky Barnes the Hermit who refused to share a coke and fries with me at that diner?”

“I shared with you,” he protested.

“Begrudgingly,” Darcy added. “So begrudgingly. I’ve never seen someone more grossed out by sipping from the same straw as me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You _were_! It was like you thought you were going to catch my girl germs or something.”

He snorted. “Is that what you think?” 

“Um, yes. And I’ll have you know that I don’t even carry girl germs. Or, okay, I probably do, but they are very nice germs. Full of sugar and spice, or whatever.” She folded her arms over her chest, and glared at him. “Sugar and spice germs, James.”

His mouth dropped open. “Did you just use my first name?”

“Yep. I needed to emphasize the seriousness of the situation, and how I am totally, without a doubt, one hundred percent right.”

“Listen, Spot,” he replied, “you are one hundred percent wrong, and just to prove it…”

Darcy gasped. First doll, and now Spot. She never should have told him about that. Although she kind of liked doll, but _Spot_? Nope. No way. It was bad enough that her brother did it.

“Did you seriously just call me Spot?” She demanded. "Really? In my own tent?"

“Yeah. I’m just emphasizing the fact that you are so off base you aren’t even on the playing field anymore.”

“I don’t think that’s how that euphemism actually goes,” she said.

“You gonna let me prove my point or not?” There was a pause, and then he added, "Spot."

Darcy groaned. “That depends. Does your point involve alcohol, because I could use a drink right about now.”

“As a matter of fact,” Bucky said, digging around inside his hoodie pocket and producing a flask like magic, “it does.”

He held the flask out to her, and she eyed it cautiously. “It’s not full of that paint thinner Natasha calls vodka, is it?” 

“Nah. I gave that up for Lent.”

“It’s October.”

“Maybe I take Lent very seriously. Are you going to drink that, or are you scared of catching _my_ germs now? Admittedly, they probably aren't of the sugar and spice variety like yours.”

“Of course I’m going to drink it. Do you even have germs?” she asked while unscrewing the cap. “I'm only asking because I'm curious. Steve can’t get sick. Is it the same way with you?”

“Dunno.” Bucky shrugged. “Possibly, but I can’t remember getting sick since HYDRA got their hands on me either.”

She took a sip, relieved to discover it was whisky. Decent whisky, too. Decent enough to warrant a second sip, actually. Then she passed it, and the cap, over to Bucky. “What about alcohol? Can you get drunk, or do you have the same metabolism thing that he does?”

“Why? You trying to get me soused and take advantage of me?” he asked, pocketing the cap before taking a long pull from the flask.

“Could I?”

“Probably not. I can get drunk, but it would take a lot more than a couple slugs of whisky.”

“Huh. Guess I'll just have to figure out another way to get you out of those pants,” she said. She meant it as a joke, but didn’t have the desired effect. Bucky sputtered, and started choking on his whisky. Darcy was up in a flash, pounding on his back. “Oh my god. I was only kidding. Are you okay? Please be okay. Steve will kill me if you asphyxiate over something I said.”

His shoulders started shaking, which only added to her panic, but then she realized he was laughing between coughs. Finally he lifted his head up again, tears in the corners of his eyes from the choking fit, and said, “What would Steve think, huh?”

“He’d think the two of you need to shut up before you wake the entire camp,” Steve’s gruff voice answered.

Darcy stared at Bucky, wide-eyed, and then collapsed back onto her sleeping bag, giggling helplessly. “Crap. Dad caught us up past our bedtime.”

Bucky capped the flask, and slid it back in his hoodie. “Maybe we should take a walk.”

A walk sounded just as cold as sitting at the picnic table, but at least they’d be moving. And not getting yelled at by Steve, which was kind of a bonus. Besides, they had alcohol, and that was warming, right? She was in.

Darcy began to wriggle out of her sleeping bag, wincing as the cold air hit her. In retrospect, it probably have have been smart to wear more to sleep in than just a long sleeved t-shirt and pair of shorts. “Just give me just a sec, I need to find my jeans and stuff.” 

“I’ll meet you outside,” Bucky said, hastily exiting.

She felt around for her jeans and sneakers, sliding on the jeans, and lacing up the sneakers with chilly fingers. After a moment of consideration, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Then she threw on a jacket that was laying on top of her backpack, and Darcy was ready. Ducking out of the entrance, she joined Bucky on the other side, and knelt down to zip up the flap. 

“Okay,” she said quietly, standing up. “We can commence Project Night-walk.”

“You gave it a name?”

“Says the man who treats most of his daily interactions like a mission, and is probably armed right now.” His expression turned cagey, and Darcy knew she wasn’t far off the mark. “So what is it? Gun? Knife? Both?” she guessed, and he averted his eyes. Both then. “Right. Like I said, commence Project Night-walk.”

They picked their way out of the campsite, leaves crunching under their feet. Neither one spoke as they started down the trail that led to the nearby lake. The air was cold enough that Darcy could see little puffs of condensation every time she exhaled. She looked up, hoping for stars, but there was a thick layer of clouds hiding everything but a hazy glimpse of the moon now and then. The trail ended at the water’s edge, and they walked slowly along the bank, passing the flask back and forth.

“So back to the whole cooking thing...” she said. “Is it new, or like, something you’ve known how to do for a while?”

“New. My uh...my therapist thought it might be good for me to channel some energy into something other than knocking around a punching bag,” Bucky replied.

“And you picked cooking. That’s kind of random.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. It was sort of an accident. I forgot to switch the television off when I went to shower one morning, and when I came back this cooking show was on. There was something about it, all the measuring, and the order to the ingredients. I could watch and my mind went quiet. When I told my therapist she suggested I try cooking along next time. So I did. It didn’t go too well at first. Burned half of everything I made for weeks before I go the hang of it.”

Darcy smiled up at him. “I’m totally picturing you in an apron right now. It’s kind of adorable.”

“Don’t wear one,” he said, smiling back. 

“Really? Well now I have to get you one, because the mental image of you in an apron is my new favorite thing. Wait, wait. I need to get it right. Sleeves rolled up, or not?”

“Rolled up.”

“Very sexy. I’m a fan. And your hair? Please tell me a man bun is involved.”

Bucky shook his head. “Baseball cap.”

“Hmm.” She frowned. “We’ll have to work on that.”

“What’s wrong with a baseball cap?”

“Are you seriously questioning the merits of a man bun versus a baseball cap right now? There’s no contest, dude. Just… Okay, hold still, and I’ll show you.” 

Darcy gave him the flask, which she’d been holding. Pulling the elastic free of her ponytail, she moved behind Bucky so she could get to his hair. A few deft twists later, and she had it secured in a bun at the nape of his neck. 

She walked around him, eyeing her work critically. “Something’s not right.”

“Yeah. It’s 'cause I’m not a poodle,” he groused.

“No, it’s because you’ve got these loose pieces up front,” Darcy told him. “Well, one loose piece. Nothing I can’t fix, though.” She stretched up on her toes, gently tucking the rogue strands behind his ear with her free hand braced in his shoulder. “There. Now you’re perfect.”

Bucky’s shoulder twitched under her palm, distracting her from her handiwork. Suddenly the fact that she was still standing on her tiptoes, face inches from his, became the paramount thought in Darcy’s mind. Letting go of him would probably have been a smart thing to do at that point. It was a good plan. A sound plan. A plan that would not involve their eyes meeting, and holding, causing a tingly, electricity to build between them. 

She sucked at good, sound plans, apparently, because at the moment they were doing the whole eyes and electricity thing instead, and Darcy was really, _really_ into it. Fuck. Her hand was also still sort of cupping Bucky’s face from when she fixed his hair, which, you know, double fuck.

He was going to kiss her. He was going to kiss her, and she was so, completely fine with that. Any second now, probably. Hopefully, anyway. Except he didn’t.

“I think maybe we should be getting back to camp, Lewis,” he said. 

The husky tone in his voice made her want to do the exact opposite of going back to camp, but then he shifted under her hands again, and she could feel uneasiness rolling off him in waves. Her better judgment immediately kicked in with a vengeance. 

“Okay,” she agreed, taking a step back.

The walk back was an exercise in awkward. There was no lighthearted conversation, or teasing glances from Bucky, just a cold silence that was getting more pronounced all the time. It was nearly as bad as those first few hours in the SUV after they left SHIELD. Actually, it was worse, because Darcy knew there was another side to him now...and she liked it.

They finally arrived back at the campsite. She fully expected Bucky to get his sleeping bag and beat a hasty retreat back to his own tent. He did unzip the flap and drag it out, but to her surprise he just laid it out on the ground in front of the entrance.

“I thought we talked about this,” she started to argue. “I don’t want you to…”

He flashed her a look that made her drop the rest of what she was going to say. “Go to sleep, Lewis. I’ll guard your weak side.”

“Yeah, but I’ll be okay. I mean, it was just a dream. Zombies aren’t real, right? And you have a nice, warm tent to sleep in.”

“I’m not guarding you against zombies, doll,” he said. “Go to sleep.”

She frowned. If he wasn’t staying outside because of her nightmare, then what was he guarding her from? HYDRA? _Himself_? Regardless, Darcy could see there was no arguing with him. So she gave up and went inside her tent. Midway through zipping it up she paused. The she grabbed her own sleeping bag and pillow, moving them around until her head was at the opening in the tent. She could see him outside through the part she’d left unzipped, a dark shape lying crosswise on the ground. 

Darcy wanted to say something. Thank you. Goodnight. Or maybe just tell him to stop being such a stubborn ass, and tell her what’s wrong. Anything would have been better than the uncomfortable lack of communication taking up the space between them right now, but she couldn’t seem to get the words out. Instead she just rolled over with a sigh and the small hope that things would be better in the morning.

Now it _was_ morning if the birds were anything to go by. She’d slept in her jeans. And her sneakers. Also the late night whisky had been completely inadvisable, as her mouth felt like it had grown fur. Gross. Darcy peeked through the still-open edge of tent flap, but there was no sign of Bucky on the other side. Struggling out of her sleeping bag, she shoved some clean clothes into the backpack containing her toiletries, and exited her tent.

She didn’t even make eye-contact with the other three. Just headed straight for the building that housed the showers without saying a word. Twenty minutes later Darcy felt considerably more optimistic about interacting with other human beings. Unfortunately a toothbrush and hot water didn’t fix her confusion over Bucky. She still had no idea what to think of what had happened the night before. He was a total enigma, and Darcy had no idea how to figure him out.

Oh well. It wasn’t like she had anything else to do for the next three weeks. Besides, him sleeping outside her tent was better than him going and hiding in his like he’d done after s’mores. So maybe she was ahead of the game. Who knew?

With a shrug, Darcy slung her backpack over her shoulder, and returned to the campsite. Bucky promised her breakfast last night, and she was damn well getting an omelette out of it whether he wanted to act all cryptic while cooking it not. There had better be some goddamn bacon left, too. Everything was better with bacon, she reasoned. Even confusion over sexy, cryptic, enigma-type dudes that she definitely shouldn’t want to kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I feel like it's important to give a heads up about something that's going to happen in the story. The next chapter is going to deal with a very specific type of claustrophobia, and panic attacks. I treated it with as much respect and care as I possibly could, because I fully understand all too well what both of things feel like. If either thing is something that you have a hard time reading about, you can message [leftylain](http://leftylain.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr , and I will be happy to explain in full what happens, and tell you where to start and stop reading. I'd put an explanation on here, but I don't want to spoil the chapter. (you can also email leftennant@gmail.com if you aren't on tumblr)
> 
> Just so you know, the chapter came about from an actual experience I had. I can't speak to how claustrophobia manifests in everyone, just myself. So it is definitely not a generalization of all claustrophobics, or people who suffer from panic attacks. I can only tell you what happened to me when I was put in this exact situation, so that's what I'm gonna do. :)


	6. Chesapeake Bay Bridge of Doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has a crisis, Bucky has a solution, and Steve has a bad day on City Island in 1936. (which Natasha finds hilarious)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, this is the chapter I was talking about in my notes last week. If you want to know more about the claustrophobia before reading, hit me up in my email or tumblr, and I'll fill you in. :) I went through this exact situation when I was younger, and it was HOOOOOORRIBLE. Especially since I had no idea I would even be bothered by it until after it was too late. The Chesapeake Bay Bridge and Tunnel System is not for me. Let's just put it that way. ;D
> 
> **************************************************************************

Bucky was back to not speaking to her. Not only that, but they were in the backseat again like a couple of sullen teenagers on a family trip. Mom was driving this time, dad had control of the radio, and Darcy was so totally over it. 

They’d been on the road for nearly seven hours. She had not gotten her omelette. To add insult to zero-omelette related injury, Steve had eaten all the goddamn bacon while she was in the shower. He’d apologized profusely in the impossibly sincere way that only Steve Rogers could, but the next time Darcy was in the driver’s seat she was leaving him behind at a rest stop. 

Needless to say, she wasn’t a happy camper. See what she did there? Happy camper? Darcy was a fucking comedic genius and there wasn’t even anyone around to appreciate it. Like Clint. Or, God, even Tony. It was the first time since she started working for SHIELD that she _missed_ Tony Stark. What was even happening to her right now? She had obviously caught some sort of mysterious form of viral dementia from the Pennsylvania woods.

Truthfully, though, even Jane might have gotten that one, and she was usually so entrenched in science that Darcy’s wit went right over her head. She missed Jane. And Thor. Thor totally would have gotten that joke, and then done that booming laugh Darcy loved. 

They were both in Asgard at the moment on some sort of diplomatic mission. Darcy knew full well that diplomatic mission was code for intergalactic booty call, and she was all for it. The two of them had been separated by work for way too long. If they wanted to sneak off to Asgard for a little something something on the glorious reinforced beds, Darcy was not going to spill their secret.

Those beds _were_ glorious. The last time Thor and Jane had taken Darcy up there with them, she’d tested one out with a hot member of the Einherjar. Getting his armor off was kind of a bitch, but totally worth it in the end. She was absolutely looking him up the next time she visited.

Darcy turned to look out her window. There had been some kind of executive decision made at a family restaurant in Delaware, and the end result was that they were skipping DC on their way to Virginia Beach. Skipping DC apparently meant going some long-ass way down coastal Route 13. However, the beachy scenery was more than making up for the inconvenience at the moment, and she was pretty chill with the decision as they rolled by Kiptopeke State Park.

That chill lasted approximately twenty more minutes. Then all hell broke loose for Darcy, because Route 13 meant the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, something she’d failed to notice while the new itinerary was being discussed back in Delaware.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t heard the words Chesapeake Bay Bridge. She had. But the signs they were passing at the moment didn’t say that. Nope. What they said was Chesapeake Bay Bridge _and Tunnel System_. Darcy tried to think positive. Nobody had said tunnel back at the diner. Maybe it was a mistake, and she was reading the signs wrong or something, or they were taking a whole other bridge. It was possible. Maybe.

“Um, guys,” she said, sitting up in her seat and looking around at the endless expanse of water on either side of them. “I thought you said this was a bridge.”

“It’s three bridges split up by two tunnels,” Natasha replied as she merged smoothly into the line of cars and onto the first stretch of the bridge. 

Steve turned around in his seat, smiling cheerfully. “The whole thing is a pretty amazing feat of engineering. They found a way to span the entire bay without hindering the boat traffic.”

“Right, but we’re going to be under water? In a tunnel? _Under_ water?” Darcy repeated. 

“Only for a mile or so,” Steve said. “Well, a mile or so each, and there's a few miles of bridge between them.” 

Fuckity fuck. This was bad. Darcy had mild claustrophobia, but mild turned into epically terrible when it came to caves, and underground tunnels. Small spaces she could handle, but knowing she was trapped beneath thousands of pounds of earth? All the hell no. Unfortunately Steve and Natasha didn't know this, because Darcy had neglected to mention it while filling out her SHIELD application. She couldn’t imagine how a job that required her to sit in an office assisting Earth’s Mightiest Heroes with hacking into villainous computer systems would mean spelunking or hanging out underground. Plus she thought including it might mean she wouldn’t get the sweetest job ever, so she just sort of omitted it on the forms.

Clearly that was a terrible idea. A terrible idea that Darcy was about to pay for in the worst possible way. She must have gone pale or something, because Steve’s face began to register concern.

“Darce? You okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” she said faintly. “Yeah, no. I’m fine. It was just kind of a surprise. Tunnels, yay.” 

She waved both hands next to her face in a vague cheering motion, and sat back in her seat trying not to freak out. Darcy caught Natasha glancing at her in the rearview. She forced a smile onto her face, and then shifted her gaze to the slate-colored water swirling below the bridge. So much water. Water that was about to be over her head, while she was entombed in a tube of metal and concrete, and asphalt. What if it leaked? What if it _collapsed_ while they were driving through it, and water started rushing in, sweeping the cars up in a brackish flood, and drowning them all?

Okay, she definitely needed to stop thinking that right now immediately. First off, they weren’t even in the tunnel yet. Secondly, there were probably a whole lot very smart sciencey types who designed the tunnels specifically not to leak. Or collapse. Or drown former interns in a moving SUV with incognito Avengers. 

“You sure you’re alright?” a quiet voice asked on her right.

Darcy looked over to find Bucky’s eyes fixed on her. There was something in his unwavering gaze that made her tell the truth.

“No,” she mouthed, shaking her head.

He leaned down, pretending to examine the laces on his boots. “Claustrophobic?” he asked in the same low pitched tone he’d used before.

Darcy nodded.

“The water making it worse?”

She nodded again. The amount of bridge was rapidly dwindling, and Darcy could see the mouth of the tunnel starting to yawn menacingly in front of them. An involuntary shudder ran through her body. Bucky straightened up, squaring his shoulders against the seat. 

Seven, six, five... she started counting down the seconds left between the outside world and the tunnel silently to herself. Something brushed against her wrist, and Darcy ignored it. Three, two… The whatever it was brushed her wrist again, and just as the tunnel closed in over her head, Bucky’s right hand enclosed hers in a warm, solid grip.

Her head whipped around as the sunlight disappeared behind them. Then there was nothing but tunnel. Darcy faced forward again, curling into her seat and tightly closing her eyes in an attempt to shut it out. The hand around hers tightened, and she opened her eyes to find Bucky watching her carefully from his side of the car.

“Breathe,” he murmured. “You gotta breathe, or you’re going to pass out.”

Darcy swallowed down the lump of fear in her throat, and tried to do what he said. The further they got into the tunnel, the harder it became to not give into her panic. She was sure his fingers were probably starting to go numb from the way she was squeezing, them but Bucky just squeezed back reassuringly.

About halfway though she started to shake. Her eyes desperately scanned the length of tunnel in front of them, looking for any sign of daylight, and her lungs started hitching on every breath. 

She turned to him, eyes wide and scared. “I can’t do this.”

“Yeah you can. Just look at me. Not the tunnel.”

Steve and Natasha finally noticed the commotion in the back. It was a little hard to ignore what with Darcy hyperventilating and Bucky talking her through it. 

“Buck?” Steve’s voice was tight with worry. “Everything okay back there?”

Bucky’s eyes never left Darcy’s face, and he continued to keep a firm hold on her hand. “Yeah, we’re alright.”

Nat’s gaze flicked up in the rearview. “Are you sure? We’re out of here in about thirty seconds, but I can make if sooner if you need me to.”

The thought of Natasha weaving through tunnel traffic in the SUV made Darcy’s stomach flip over. “No,” she told her. “He’s right. We’re good.”

Despite her words to Nat, the last thirty seconds were torture to Darcy. By the time they exited the tunnel, she was a complete wreck. Bucky finally glanced away from her face, but it was only for a moment.

“Pull over,” he ordered sharply, and Natasha promptly got them off the bridge and into the small observation area parking lot.

Bucky was unbuckling Darcy’s seatbelt before the vehicle even came to a stop. The moment the Natasha put it in park, he popped the door. Darcy stumbled out onto the pavement, and he quickly wrapped an arm around her waist, hauling her up against him. For a few seconds it was all she could do not to go to pieces with her face pressed into Bucky’s chest. 

“The tunnel get to her?” Steve asked. Darcy hadn’t even realized he had gotten out of the car.

“She’s claustrophobic,” Bucky replied. 

Steve gave a low whistle. “Sorry, Darce. We didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” she told him, voice muffled by Bucky’s shirt. 

“No,” he replied. “It’s not. We never would have gone this way if we’d known.”

Darcy finally dragged herself away from Bucky. He released his hold her waist, but didn’t remove his hand entirely, letting it rest on the small of her back instead. It was a low-key reminder that he was still there, and she was grateful for it.

“No, really. It’s my fault,” she insisted. “I didn’t think there would be tunnels, or I would have said something, and then when I _did_ find out it was too late. Seriously though, what kind of asshole puts a tunnel under a bay?” 

“The same kind of asshole who puts two tunnels under a bay,” Natasha answered. “Look, I don’t want to make things worse, but we’re only halfway across. Any direction we go in is going to involve putting her back in a tunnel. What’s the gameplan?”

Darcy’s knees wobbled. “Fuck. I forgot about the other tunnel.”

Natasha gave her a sympathetic look, and then her attention switched to Bucky. “If it would be easier, she could always sleep through it.”

“No,” he cut her off abruptly . “That’s not an option.”

“If you’re worried about her getting hurt...” Nat began again, but Bucky stopped her once more.

“I said no. We managed back there with her awake. We can do it again.”

The next thing Natasha said was in a language that sounded almost, but not quite, like Russian. Bucky answered in the same language, a tinge of anger coloring his words. Natasha replied in a rapid-fire staccato. Steve and Darcy were left standing there trying to follow the exchange. Darcy glanced at Steve for clarification, but he just shook his head. 

“Hold on,” Darcy broke in. “Do I get a say here? Because if it’s like a sedative or something, yes. I will totally take it. No offense to you and your excellent hand-holding skills, because you were awesome back there,” she said to Bucky.

“Trust me, doll,” Bucky replied, “the Red Room’s version of a sedative isn’t something you want.”

The confusion in Steve’s eyes immediately cleared, but it took Darcy a few more seconds to get that they weren’t talking about a garden variety pill-induced nap, but more along the lines of Nat knocking her out manually with some kind of Vulcan death grip. Scary.

“Oookay,” Darcy said. “Sorry, Nat, but I’m gonna have to agree with Bucky on this one. Not that I think you don’t know what you’re doing. I’m sure you’re very, um...professional, but no thanks all the same. Do we have another plan for getting me into Virginia Beach? Because I’d swim for it, but I strongly suspect that would end in tears. And death. Tears first though.”

“I could do it,” Steve offered. “It’s only a mile. We’ll stop before the next tunnel, and I’ll help her get across.”

They all turned to stare at him with matching incredulous expressions.

“Or not,” he conceded. 

“Right,” Natasha said. “Darcy, what do we need to do to get you through this?”

Darcy looked at them helplessly. “I don’t know. It’s just… I feel like I’m being buried when I’m in a tunnel. The walls close in, the air disappears. I can handle anything else, just not tunnels,” she said with a shudder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Nat said. “We just need to figure out a way to get you across that doesn’t involved swimming. Does anyone else have any ideas?”

“I do,” Bucky said. He pulled the door of the SUV open, and got into the seat Darcy had been occupying. Then he held his hand out to her. “C’mon.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you seriously asking me to sit in your lap?”

“Yes,” he said, patiently waiting for her to take his hand.

“And this is going to help how?” she asked.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at her. “Trust me.”

She glanced at Nat, who just shrugged as if to say, ‘Do you have any better ideas?’. Darcy didn’t. She took a deep breath, and climbed into the SUV.

***************************************************************************

Bucky helped Darcy get herself settled, pulling her back against his chest, and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Good?” he asked.

“Mostly,” she replied. “You’re surprisingly comfy for such a baddass.”

“Yeah well, I’m full of surprises,” he responded dryly.

“Are you?” She wriggled around to look at him. “Like what?”

“You’ll just have to stick around and find out,” Bucky said, and her lips quirked up in a way that had him grinning like a complete imbecile in response. Which he was, he reminded himself. A complete imbecile who had no business noticing how well she fit in his arms. 

The doors up front banged shut, and Bucky realized he hadn’t even noticed the other two getting back in the car. So much for all his training. Apparently all it took was a single smile from a pretty girl, and everything he knew was shot to shit.

Darcy wasn’t just any pretty girl, though. That was the problem. She’d ceased to be any girl a long time ago, and Bucky was getting less able to hide how sweet he was on her. Like last night down at the lake when she’d been messing around with his hair. The memory flashed through his mind, her hand on his face, and her eyes wide and bright as they stared up into his in the darkness. He’d almost lost his head and kissed her.

“How long until we hit the tunnel?” he inquired in an effort to distract himself.

“About seven minutes,” Nat replied. “You two good back there?”

“Fine,” he replied. 

She nodded in the rearview, and her eyes dropped back to the road. 

“You hanging in there?” Bucky asked Darcy.

“Oh you know,” she said in a tone that was trying for flippant and failing miserably. “I’m making the most of my last seven minutes before being entombed under a bay by cuddling with a really hot WWII vet. It’s almost worth it.”

“Just almost, huh?" he teased. "I'm a little hurt." 

“Considering how terrified I am right now, it’s a compliment. Just try to focus on the part where I called you really hot, and disregard the rest.”

Oh he was focusing on it, alright. More accurately, he was fighting a losing battle with trying _not_ to focus on it. They lapsed into silence for the next few miles. Then the first sign appeared alerting them to the approaching tunnel. Bucky could feel a small shiver run through Darcy’s frame, and he pulled her more firmly into his arms in response.

The tunnel entrance drew closer, and she buried her head in his shoulder. “I fucking hate tunnels,” she said.

“Pretty sure we’ve established that,” he replied.

“Don't make me cut you, asshat,” she retorted.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, or really at the top of her head, since her face was still tucked into the crook of his neck. “Is calling me names helping?”

"You forgot the part where I threatened you with a stabbing," Darcy said, as the vehicle went into the tunnel. She lifted her head to look around once, and then curled back into him, fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt. Bucky brought his right hand up between her shoulder blades, thumb tracing slow circles on her back.

“Still with me, doll?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Will it help to talk?”

“Maybe if you do?” Darcy pulled back to glance up at him for a moment, face chalky white. “Just...talk about anything. I don’t care. Whatever you want.”

“I can do that.” Bucky thought for a second, trying to come up with something that distract her from being trapped in a tube under the Chesapeake bay. It was a tall order. Finally he hit on something he hoped would work. “Steve ever tell you about the time he dragged me all the way over to City Island to find some girl he met once outside a movie theater?”

“Really, Buck?” Steve interjected. “All the stories you could tell her, and that’s one you choose?”

“What happened?” Nat asked, voice full of interest.

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this,” Steve muttered. 

“ _I_ can’t believe it’s the first time I’m hearing about it,” she responded. “Picking up women outside a movie theater, hmm? Scandalous.”

“You know, Romanoff,” Steve said, shaking his head at her, “I _did_ talk to women. Even back then. I’m not saying I was good at it…”

“No one is saying you were good at it,” Bucky remarked, and he could hear Darcy snicker against his shoulder.

“You’re lucky this is for Darcy,” Steve said. “Otherwise I’d knock your ass clear out of this tunnel for that one.”

“You gonna use language like that with ladies present?” Bucky asked.

Steve shook his head. “Just tell the story and get it over with.”

Bucky grinned. “Where was I? The bridge?”

“The movie theater,” Nat said.

“Right, right. So he somehow gets this girl’s address. Which, as we’ve just covered, was a miracle in itself…”

Steve sighed loudly.

“...and of course she lives way over on City Island in the Bronx. Which is a goddamn haul from Hell’s Kitchen, but he was determined to find her. So I agreed to go along, because somebody had to make sure he got there in one piece. It starts out fine, but halfway across the bridge into City Island disaster strikes. See, Steve had this little piece of paper all folded up with the girl's name and address on it. What was it, Steve? Ava? Alice?”

“Addie,” Steve replied in a resigned tone. “Addie Billings.”

“That’s right. _Addie_. So we’re on the bridge, and this milk truck comes roaring by almost knocking us over. Of course the piece of paper gets sucked right oughtta his hand by the draft, and Stevie, idiot that he was, went after it. I had to yank him back up onto the pedestrian walkway by his shirt collar to keep him from getting killed.”

“Did you get it back?” Darcy asked, and Bucky was relieved to see his attempt at distracting her appeared to be working.

“Nah. By the time the traffic cleared enough to look for it, the damn thing was long gone. That didn’t stop Steve, though. He was so crazy for this broad that we ended up going door to door trying to find her. I kid you not, we must of knocked on half the doors in City Island,” he told them. “Poor kid was practically dead on his feet before I made him call it all off.”

“So you never found her?” Natasha inquired, gaze moving between the road and the rearview.

“Nope.” Bucky said. “I had to cough up for a cab just to get him home, because there was no way he was hoofing it after all that.”

“That’s sad,” she said. “You know, Friday could probably look her up for you, Steve. If you’re still interested, that is.” She cut her eyes over at him, smirking.

“You just _had_ to tell that story, didn’t you?” he grumbled at Bucky. 

“Hey, I’m doing a public service for Darcy here. She wanted entertainment, and I provided. If anything, you should be glad I didn’t tell her about that time in Atlantic City.” 

Natasha ducked her head, shoulders shaking with laughter. Apparently she’d already heard that one. 

“What happened in Atlantic City?” Darcy asked. 

Bucky grinned down at her. “Sorry sweetheart, but I happen to know he packed that damn shield, and as much as I’d like to tell you about how he almost drowned trying to steal the flags off a buoy because some jerk dared him to do it, I don’t want to be on the receiving end of that thing again.”

“Thanks a lot Buck,” Steve said. “That's real thoughtful of you.”

“Yeah well, what can I say? I’m a thoughtful guy,” Bucky replied.

“Okay. So not the Atlantic City story...something else then?” Darcy asked.

He could see the desperation edging back into her big blue eyes, and thought fast, trying to come up with something to keep it at bay. “Sure. Let me just…”

“Damn it.” Nat’s low, uneasy voice stopped him dead in his tracks. Well, that and the fact that they were beginning to slow down.

Darcy tensed in his lap, sitting up and turning to face the snarl of traffic that was now apparent in front of them. “No,” she whispered.

There was a line of cars at a complete standstill as far up the tunnel as they could see. Bucky heard Darcy swallow, and then little tremors began to run through her body.

“Hey.” He caught her chin his hand, angling it so she was looking at him and not out the window. “I’m right here. You and me? We’re getting through this.”

She shook her head. “I don't think I can.”

“You have to. There’s not really an alternative, short of us walking out, and I don’t think you want that.”

At the mention of them getting out of the car, Darcy whimpered. Bucky felt for her. He really did. The years of being pulled in and out of a cryo tank were seared into his brain like a brand. There were times when he could barely think about it without feeling like he’d taken a punch to the gut. Steve thought _he_ hated the cold? He had no idea. Not that Bucky ever would’ve told him that. Some things were better left unsaid.

The traffic crawled forward a few feet, then stopped again. It continued one like that for about five minutes, while the girl in his arms slowly fell apart. The tremors had turned into outright shaking, and every breath Darcy took seemed to get stuck in her chest. Bucky cursed whatever was holding them up. 

“Any idea what the hell is causing this?” he asked the two in the front.

Steve was messing around with the dial on radio, static humming loudly in the speakers. “The GPS is down, and Friday is having trouble connecting to the internet. I’m looking for the emergency traffic station,” he said. “They should have a transceiver carrying the signal in here.” 

For a few minutes there was nothing but tense silence punctuated by the sound of Darcy’s harsh breathing, and then Steve found the station. A monotone male voice filled the car, explaining that there was a traffic accident up ahead. The station cut in and out, and Bucky couldn’t hear how long they’d be stuck there. 

“How long did it say?” he questioned tersely.

Steve met his eyes in the rearview, lips compressed into a grim line. “Twenty minutes, give or take.”

“Oh my God.” Darcy stared at him, completely panicked. 

Twenty fucking minutes. Bucky needed a new plan, or he was gonna have to put her out himself, and that was something he absolutely didn’t want to do. He wracked his brain for ideas, coming up dry. Then a memory floated to the surface, and he grasped onto it before it could drift away again. It was something from long ago, and Bucky wasn’t sure it would work, but he could damn well try. 

“Right,” he said, snapping into action. “Come on, doll, we need to get down on the floor of this rig.” 

He shoved himself off the seat, pulling Darcy down with him so he was sitting up against the rear door on the driver's side with her between his legs, her back pressed to his chest. Ripping off the leather glove on his left hand so it wouldn't dull his sense of touch on that side, he placed both palms on her ribcage under her breasts, fingers splayed wide. 

“I want you to breathe with me, okay? In and out.” Bucky inhaled slowly, but she didn’t respond. He gave her ribs a squeeze to get her attention. “Lewis, you gotta give me something to work with here.” She nodded, and he felt her chest rising under his fingers in a stuttered breath. “Good,” he said. “That’s good. Again.”

Seconds trickled by like hours as he worked to help her fight her way through the panic attack. Finally the wheels started moving again, and by the time they exited the tunnel, her chest was rising and falling in rhythm with his own. Neither one of them made a move to get off the floor, though. Being cramped seemed a small price to pay for Darcy being alright, and Bucky figured it could wait.

“Thank you,” Darcy said in a small voice. “How did you know that would work?”

“Because it’s what he used to do for me,” Steve answered quietly. “Back when we were kids, and my asthma kicked up.”

Bucky looked up to find his friend watching them thoughtfully from the front seat. 

“You make it sound like I did something heroic, when it was either that or let you die on the schoolyard,” he said to Steve with a shrug. “As I see it, the choice was a simple one.”

“You held Steve the same way you’re holding me right now?” Darcy asked, half-turning around to look at him. “Really? I don’t suppose I could talk you into re-enacting that when we’re off this damn bridge, could I? I want a picture of it to send to Jane.”

“You’ve got a pretty sassy mouth for someone who was practically dead a second ago,” Bucky said with a chuckle, more relieved than he could say to hear her cracking a joke.

She gave him a weak smile in return. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep,” Darcy said. She let her head drop back onto his shoulder wearily. “God, that was totally exhausting.”

“What are you talking about?” he said, “The way I see it, I did all the work. Keeping you occupied, and entertained, while you used me like a human pillow.”

“Shut up, Barnes,” she replied. “Pillows aren’t supposed to talk.”

Bucky snorted in response. One of his legs had fallen asleep from being trapped up against the back of the driver’s seat. He stretched it out, trying not to dislodge Darcy in the process. She shifted her weight, giving him more room, and then her left hand slid under his. Bucky nearly had trouble breathing himself when she turned it palm up so she could twine her delicate fingers between his cybernetic ones. 

The prosthetic immediately went to work translating the touch and temperature of her skin into messages his brain could decipher. The influx of information was quickly sorted and assessed for threat. Temperature slightly elevated, skin soft and a little damp from her residual fear of being in the tunnel, each of those things flooded his senses one after the other as he curled his fingers carefully around hers. All this, plus every time he took a breath, the scent of her shampoo and warm skin washed through him. It was a heady mix to begin with, and combined the fact that she’d chosen that hand over the other, it practically knocked him flat. 

He was still staring down at their joined hands when they rolled into Virginia beach. Darcy had actually fallen asleep in his arms. Bucky just let her doze, unwilling to disturb her after the rough time she’d had crossing the bridge. It certainly wasn’t because the weight of her as she lay there curled against his chest was filling him with something he hadn’t felt in far too long, or the fact that she trust him enough to do that was twisting him up inside in the best possible way.

Fuck, he had it bad for her. _Bad_ , bad. He was like a goddamn teenager around Darcy, and the worst part was he liked it. Liked the off-balance feeling he got when she smiled at him, and the way his heart started going like a kick drum every time she touched him. More than that even, he liked the feel of her hand in his. It felt right, grounding him in a way that few things had since he’d begun to recover his memories and his life. 

Last night had felt right too, sitting in that tent with her, while she told him stories about when she was a kid. And then when he called her Spot... Bucky smirked. The indignant look on her face was priceless. It made him want to rag on her just to see it again. 

“Five minutes until the hotel, Buck,” Steve said, breaking him out of his thoughts. “You want to wake her, or wait until we park?”

“Let her sleep,” he replied. “I’ll carry her in if it comes to that.”

Bucky could see Steve and Natasha glance at each other and then smile, but he couldn’t seem bring himself to care. He was just too damn content. So he let it go, leaning back against the door, and relishing the feel of Darcy in his arms until they arrived hand in hand at the hotel.


	7. Heroes and  Funnel Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy makes a declaration, Bucky finally gets his flirt on, and Steve and Natasha pretty much guarantee that they will all be banned from that particular hotel forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cats you guys, I'm so sorry I didn't update last week. There is a decent reason for that, though. I was really, really, REALLY sick. Like, scary visit to the emergency room sick. It was pretty unfun. I ended up having to take this medicine that rendered me completely useless for days. Not that I didn't try to write, because I did, and OMG...hahahaha, yeah. I was so high from the meds, and the chapter definitely reflected that. Poor Anniemar listened to my pathetic whining, and looked the chapter over for me even though she had all kinds of stuff going on. She's a saint. Seriously. Anniemar, Patron Saint of Leftennant's Fic Problems. Then I spent all yesterday and today messing around with it again in an attempt to make it cohesive. Hopefully it all turned out okay, because I'm posting it. ;D
> 
> ***********************************************************************

They were sharing a room. They. Were. Sharing. A. Room. Darcy was still trying to wrap her head around that completely insane bit of information. At the moment she couldn’t decide if she was homicidal when it came to Steve and Natasha, or if she wanted to get them a thank you gift, because the part where she found out she and Bucky were sharing a room had been interesting to say the least. 

Darcy had woken up on a strange bed, in a strange room, to the sound of a shower running. She cautiously took stock of her surroundings while trying to muddle through her confusion. It was typical bland hotel room, which okay, but the sound of someone bathing in the other room was a little freaky. Oh God, speaking of freaky, had she been _getting_ freaky? Was that what the hotel room was all about? Just before actual panic set in, Darcy remembered everything that happened on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, and realized she must have fallen asleep afterwards 

That could only mean someone had carried her into the hotel. It didn't take a genius to figure out that someone had probably been Bucky, and Darcy also suspected he was the one in the shower right now. For a few seconds she pursued that train of thought. Then she got a grip on herself enough to wonder why the hell Bucky was showering in her hotel room and not his.

Unless… Darcy abruptly rolled over and sat up, rapidly taking in the set of unfamiliar luggage next to hers by the TV stand, and the second king size bed in the room. It all suddenly made perfect sense. Bucky wasn’t using _her_ shower, he was using _their_ shower. In their room. Because the two scheming assholes who she imagined were on the other side of the adjoining door in the wall had only made one room reservation for her and Bucky. Darcy was going to destroy Steve and Natasha. Violently. And with lots of screaming. 

She was just picturing clobbering Cap over the head with his own shield when the bathroom door opened, and her new roommate emerged. Bucky was clad only in a pair of jeans, absently rubbing a towel over his wet hair. Darcy froze on the bed, throat going completely dry as he crossed the room shirtless and barefoot, and began digging around in in a duffle bag sitting on top of the luggage.

Okay. She was totally forgiving Steve and Nat for the whole sharing a hotel room thing. Forgiveness was good. Fuck that. Forgiveness was _divine._ She was like Ghandi, or Mother Theresa, or some other saintly, zen-type person. Darcy quickly moved shirtless Bucky into her best mental image ever slot, bumping Bucky in an apron down to second place. 

Was all the pervy staring getting weird? It was probably getting weird. Darcy needed to alert him to the fact that she was awake instead of ogling him from across the room, and she would absolutely do that in like...five more seconds. Or maybe ten seconds, but if she was going to do ten, why not round it off to a solid fifteen?

“Feeling better, Lewis?” Bucky asked without bothering to turn around, and she almost tumbled backwards off the bed. 

Darcy felt like a complete idiot. Of course he knew she was awake. Bucky was highly trained in stealthy spysassin techniques. He probably noticed everything all the time, and if the amused tone in his voice was anything to go by, her blatant staring hadn’t escaped his notice either. Awesome. Maybe she could just flop back down, snore a little, and pretend she’d been sleep-leering. Which was totally a thing that she’d just invented, but whatever. 

She actually debated trying it for a second, but figured he’d never buy it. “Yeah. Much better. Has your hand recovered from me crushing it with fear?”

“I’ll live,” Bucky said, finding the shirt he was looking for and yanking it over his head. He draped the damp towel around his neck, and zipped the bag back up. Then he cast a dark look at the door between the rooms, and remarked, “Steve and Natasha might not.”

Darcy made a sound of agreement. "So what’s the plan? I was considering clocking Steve with his own shield, but I hadn’t decided on what to do with Nat.”

“His own shield, huh?" He gave her an impressed smile. "I like it. You’d better let me handle Natasha, though. Catching her off guard is gonna be tricky as hell.”

A loud thud interrupted Darcy’s reply. The two of them glanced over at the wall they shared with Steve and Natasha where the noise had originated. A moment later there was a second, softer thud, followed by a series of rhythmic bangs.

“What the hell?” Bucky asked, taking a step towards the adjoining door.

Darcy was still frowning. What the hell indeed? Now there was squeaking too. She had just slid off the bed and started for the door too when her brain caught up with her.

Rhythmic banging and squeaking. From the room Nat and Steve were in. Oh. God. It looked like Bucky had just cottoned on to what the noise must be as well. He was staring at the door in a kind of mortified silence. 

The thumping got louder, and...oh yeah. Those was definitely the sounds of two people seriously sexing it up coming through the wall now. Darcy figured telling them to get a room was pretty much pointless. Should she record it one her phone for Tony? Would he pay her for it? What was the going rate on super-hero sex noises anyway? _Goddamn_ but they were loud. Who would have expected that from Captain America?

She glanced over at Bucky for some help. He scratched the back of his neck, cleared his throat, and said, “I was just wondering if maybe you’d want take a walk down to the boardwalk with me.”

Darcy could not have been more enthusiastically on board with his plan. “Yes. Absolutely,” she replied. “Give me two seconds to get changed and find my shoes.”

Ten minutes later they were outside in the sunshine, far, far away from the sound of Captain America and the Black Widow having a patriotic nooner. Or, more accurately, a three in the afternooner, because Darcy had checked her phone to see what time it was on their way out of the hotel. 

The boardwalk was beautiful. There were pretty old fashioned lamps lining the walkway, a gentle breeze was blowing in off the ocean, and the ocean was sparkling away in the bright sunshine. Not only that, but it had to be at least 80 degrees out, which was fantastic after the frigid temperatures up North. Darcy was glad she’d opted for shorts, but Bucky had added a long-sleeved shirt and his usual glove before they left, and she wondered how he could stand it.

Neither one of them had said a thing about what they’d overheard back at the hotel. He still looked a little scarred, and she decided not bringing it up was a solid idea. Darcy was just about to comment on the massive bronze Neptune that was just ahead of them on the beach, when Bucky shook his head, lips curling up at the corners.

“Sorry about all that. I still can’t get over Steve being so…” He paused.

“Sexually active?” Darcy offered, and Bucky laughed.

“That too. But I guess what I mean is that the present hasn’t been that long for me, or Steve either. Most of what we remember happened seventy years ago. It’s like the guy in that story, the one who went to sleep and woke up years later with everything changed."

"Steve's had more time to acclimate, too," Darcy replied. "That's got to be weird for you. The two of you didn't get to spend a lot of time together after he was super-serumed, right? And now he's not only all muscley and stuff, but I'm guessing there's probably a lot of other differences that came with him being in modern times for a few years too. Like having really loud sex with Natasha, which, oh my God, I am never going to be to unhear that."

"Half the hotel isn't going to be able to unhear that," Bucky said, shaking his head. "But yeah. Sometimes it feels like I'm getting to know Steve all over again along with everything else. Those missing years made a hash out of everything. I wasn’t out for all of it, like Steve was, but I wasn’t awake either. Not really.”

“I wondered about that,” she said carefully, not sure how much she was allowed to ask. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to talk about it, but I can't help but be curious. Was waking up each time like starting over for you?”

He kicked a stray pebble off the walkway, watching as it skittered away into a cluster of ornamental grasses. “Sometimes. Not all of it has come back, and the stuff that has isn't always clear. From what I do remember, it was more like being given a whole different identity. Sometimes I’d wake up and that identity would be there, and sometimes… Sometimes I was someone else, or no one. It was like being empty, no memories, no clues to who I was.”

“Were you ever you?” Darcy asked.

“Not often. It more like bits and pieces of who I was underneath would start punching through whatever programming HYDRA had done. I’d start getting glitchy, and they didn’t like glitchy. So they’d wipe me and start over.”

“Jesus.” Darcy looked up at him. He’d gone all tight around the eyes, and both his hands were balled into fists. She wondered if any of the agents who’d done that to him were still running around, and if they were, how many of them she could hunt down and hurt. 

“I’m sorry. That’s probably the last thing you want to hear about,” he said. “We can talk about something else.”

“No,” she said. “I mean, if you want to talk about something else, then that’s fine. I’m not going to push you into telling me things you’d rather not get into, but I like that you feel like you can share stuff with me. It’s good.” 

Bucky looked down at her, nervously dragging his bottom lip between his teeth before speaking. “The thing is, Darcy, I don’t know how much you already know about my missing years, but none of it is good. I did unforgivable things, hurt people, and worse.”

“You think you're responsible for the things that happened when you were brainwashed?” she asked with a frown. 

“You don’t?”

Wow. Darcy couldn't believe the misconception Bucky was operating under, if that’s what he thought. She needed to set him straight pronto. “Bucky? I’m going to say a thing right now, and it’s an important thing that will affect our entire co-pilot relationship forever, okay?” She waited patiently for him to acknowledge her statement with a nod before continuing. “Great. So here it is. Anything that happened while you weren’t you? It doesn’t count against you. Not in my book. Not ever. Because this guy right here?” She tapped his chest with one finger. “He’s one of the good guys, and he’s always been one of the good guys.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand. I’m not like Steve. He’s the hero, I’m just the guy in the shadows who gets things done.”

“Nope. Sorry. I don’t accept that. You fought alongside Steve in the Howling Commandos back then for the right reasons, and you fight alongside the Avengers now for the right reasons. You _save_ people. You protect people, and you risk your life to do it. That’s pretty much the definition of a hero. Anyway, even if none of that was true, you were totally my hero when I was trapped in that tunnel today." 

Bucky looked like he wanted to say a lot things, and none of them were actually making it past his lips. Darcy was starting to worry that maybe she'd broken him. So she did the only thing she could think to do. She braced her hands on his shoulders, and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek.

"That's for being so awesome earlier," she whispered. "Thank you."

He exhaled slowly. "You're welcome."

"So we've got an understanding then? You know, about your hero status, and how you totally are one?" Darcy asked.

"Yeah," Bucky said. "We've got an understanding."

"Cool. Hey, want to split a funnel cake with me? I’m starving and there's a stand right over there.” Without waiting for his reply, Darcy made a beeline for the retro-looking concession stand, leaving Bucky standing on the walkway. She completed her purchase and came back, holding the plate out for him. “Careful, it’s hot.”

He didn't make a move to take any, just looked at the plate with a little furrow creasing his brow.

"Are we back to you thinking I'm poisoning your food?" she asked. "Because I promise you, if I wanted to kill you I'd find a more creative way to do it."

Bucky raked his hand through his hair. “No. It's not that. It just feels all wrong letting you pay for the food every time. My ma raised me with better manners than that. At least let me buy us a drink or something.”

“Oh my God, did you just bust out the old-fashioned etiquette on me, Barnes?” she said, grinning up at him. 

He shrugged. “Yeah well, I was born in 1917. Cut me some slack.”

That gave her pause. 1917. It was so easy to forget his age when he looked like he wasn’t a whole lot older than she was. Wading through current culture was probably like a minefield to him sometimes. Bucky must have taken her silence as a bad sign, because he started getting twitchy, and began rambling. 

“You can say no if I offended you. I’m still not sure what to say or do that won’t get me into trouble around women now. I just thought, you know...it was polite to offer.”

She interrupted before he could dig himself any further. “You know what goes great with fried dough? Lemonade. Think you can handle splitting one with me?”

All the tight lines of his body relaxed, and he flashed her a relieved smile that Darcy felt was worth so much more than she deserved for just agreeing to split a lemonade with him. 

“Yeah. I can handle that,” he said, and went up to the stand to get one.

She found a bench while she was waiting. Bucky returned a few minutes later, and they sat together picking apart the fried dough, and passing the lemonade back and forth between them. It didn’t take very long for them to demolish both things. As usual Bucky ate twice as much as Darcy did, and as usual she didn’t mention it. 

Handing him a couple of napkins, Darcy stood up, licking a small dab of powdered sugar from one of her knuckles. She looked over to find him still seated on the bench, watching her. 

“Anyone ever tell you it’s not polite to stare?” she teased.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re worth staring at, doll?” he countered with a lazy smirk.

"Keep that up and you're going to ruin the whole hermit thing you've spent so much time perfecting," Darcy told him. "Not that I mind.”

“Maybe I’m tired of being a hermit,” Bucky replied, wadding the used napkins and plate into a ball and standing up so he could throw them into a nearby trashcan. “Maybe I think it’s time I tried living a little instead.”

A huge smile spread across Darcy’s face. “I fully support this decision. Like, one hundred and twelve percent support it. Just in case you were wondering.”

“Good. Where to now?”

“Hmm.” She looked up and down the boardwalk, and then out at the waves breaking against the shore. “I don’t suppose I could talk you out of those boots? I haven’t been to the beach in forever, and it’s kind of a crime to come this close and not actually get down to the water. What do you say, Mr. Finally Decided to Live a Little, are you in?” 

"You want to go in the water?"

"Yep." Darcy was already toeing off her sneakers. She bent over to scoop them up in one hand, and gestured at him with them. “The ocean is calling me, dude. Let’s go.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath that she didn’t catch, but he knelt down, unlacing first one boot and then the other. She waited as he stripped off his socks and stuffed them into one of the boots. Then he rolled the cuffs on his jeans, and straightened back up. 

She rocked back on her heels, eyes sweeping over him from head to toe. “You know, you're kind of adorable, with your hair, and your face, and your boots in one hand. It’s a good look for you, Barnes.”

“I always have this hair and this face,” he replied.

“Yeah,” Darcy said over her shoulder as she turned her back on him and headed for the beach access, “I know.”

Within moments she could hear him jogging to catch up to her, and she smiled to herself. By the time she was wiggling her toes in the sand, Bucky was right there next to her. Darcy tucked her sneakers under the steps that led down to the beach, and he did the same with his boots. The sound of the waves echoed in her ears as they finally reached the water, and she sighed happily.

“I’ve always loved this,” she said to him. “There’s just something about the ocean. It’s so powerful, and constant, and I don’t know...restless in a way. It never stops moving, like it’s so full of life, it just can’t be still.” She shook her head, laughing at herself. “I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“I think you’re making perfect sense,” he said, gazing at her thoughtfully.

“You’re the only who thinks I make sense, then. That’s kind of a dubious honor. Hey, is that a sand dollar?”

He looked where she was pointing at a small white disc getting pulled back into the ocean with the surf. Before Darcy could make a move towards it, Bucky had it in his hand with one swift, fluid movement. “This what you wanted?” he asked, holding it out to her.

“Yes! Oh my God, look at it. It’s so pretty.” She flipped it over so he could see the star pattern on the front. “These aren’t easy to find. Seriously. This is my first, and I’ve been to the beach lots of times. You should have it,” she said decidedly.

“It’s yours,” Bucky protested. 

“No it’s not. You rescued it. I want you to have it.” Darcy caught his hand, turning it palm up and setting the sand dollar square in the center. “Maybe we’ll find another one, and then we’ll both have one.”

He accepted it without further argument, carefully curving his fingers around the fragile surface. They started to walk again, Darcy splashing along in the ankle deep water, while Bucky stayed on the wet sand. For once the silence between them was companionable instead of fraught with tension. She scooped up interesting shells when she found them, and passed them over for him to look at. They kept a few of the better ones. Bucky finally told her the story of Steve trying to steal the buoy flags, and Darcy almost fell over laughing. 

“I’ve seen the pictures, but it’s still hard for me to picture Steve all skinny and small,” she said.

He shook his head. “I have the opposite problem. Half the time when I look at him, I expect to see the little guy.”

“Do you miss it? They way things were?”

“What, having to save Stevie from himself all the time?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “Not that. I mean the time period. How it was back then, do you miss it?”

“Not right now,” Bucky said, with a sly glance over at her.

The sound of an incoming text interrupted them. Darcy waited as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen. 

“Steve?” she asked.

“Natasha. They want to meet up and find somewhere to eat.”

She sighed. It figured that Steve and Natasha would get done just when things were getting good with her and Bucky. “Where are we meeting them?”

“Over by that Neptune statue. They’ll be there in about five minutes.” Bucky tapped some reply out, and sent it before pocketing his phone again.

“Better go find our shoes then,” Darcy said. “Hey, Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Race you back. Winner buys appetizers.”

“You’re gonna be buying me an appetizer then, doll.”

“Not unless I lose,” she shouted as she bolted towards the beach access with him in hot pursuit.

**************************************************************************

“You were right about them,” Natasha said to Steve, watching Bucky chase Darcy across the sand. 

Steve slid his arm around her waist, and she leaned back into him with a contented sigh. “I had a hunch, that’s all.”

“And what about me? Did you have a hunch about me too?” Natasha half-turned in his arms so he could see her playful smile. 

“No. You kept me guessing for a long time."

“Was it worth it? All that guessing?”

His arms tightened around her. “You tell me.”

Natasha grinned. “I know it was worth it this afternoon.”

“Keep looking at me like that and it’s going to be worth it later on too,” Steve said. 

“Mmm. I like the sound of that.” She went up on her toes to kiss him, and then turned her attention back to Bucky and Darcy who were rapidly approaching. “He’s letting her win.”

Steve nodded. “I know he is. Bucky’s always been diplomatic when it comes to women.”

“Is that what you think it is? Diplomacy?”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “From where I’m standing it looks more like strategy.”

“Huh. So tell me, in your expert opinion, is his strategy working?”

“Let’s put it this way. If he keeps doing what he’s doing, we won’t be hearing any complaints about them sharing a room.”

He leaned down, lips brushing her ear and making her shiver. “You think there’s a good chance Darcy is going to fall for him, then?”

Natasha observed them carefully as the pair came closer. Darcy reached the stair rail to the beach access first, and then leaned back, laughing up at Bucky in delight. “I think she already has.”


	8. Netflix and Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Netflix and Chill doesn't exactly happen, because Darcy has a bottle of wine, a bed full of ammunition, and exactly zero chill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This. Chapter. Way back in September I had a conversation with Annie about this chapter, and where I wanted to go with it, and I've been gleefully waiting to post it since then. You know, there are things you never think you'd have to research - like whether or not there are hotels in Virginia Beach that have Netflix. BUT, lucky for me, there are. So yay! 
> 
> Also, I have guests visiting all week, which is going to make working on chapter 9 a little complicated. Fortunately, I have a bunch of it written already, and for those of you who have been very patiently waiting for these two ridiculous ducklings to make a move... I don't want to spoil to much, but yeah. I think the next chapter will deliver for the 'NOW KISS' crowd. ;) Plus, I love a slow burn, but keeping a lid on the Wintershock action has been killing me. So, yup. That's all I'm gonna say about that.
> 
> And finally I want to say this. You are all awesome. I am just blown away by the hits, and kudos, and reviews on this fic. Thank you so much for reading, you have no idea how excited I am to know you like the story. It means everything to me to see people are enjoying something I wrote. For. Reals.
> 
> ********************************************************************************************

They were halfway to some island on the Outer Banks. Bucky was driving, but it was all he could do to keep his concentration on the road and not on the girl sitting in the passenger seat next to him. He didn’t usually have a problem with maintaining his focus, and it was frustrating as hell. For the fifth time in as many minutes he found his gaze wandering over to Darcy, mind backtracking to go over the events of the day before.

Bucky was still reeling from her calling him a hero. Her heartfelt words kept playing over and over in his mind in a heady loop. That she’d said it at all was incredible, but the the fact that she’d _meant_ it was everything. And she had meant it. That much was clear. With one sentence Darcy addressed half a dozen of Bucky’s strongest insecurities, and wiped the slate clean. 

It wasn’t that he no longer considered himself responsible for the things he had done, but to know that Darcy didn’t was a game changer. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe her. He couldn’t believe that Steve, _Steve_ , had been right. Bucky shook his head. How much time had he wasted avoiding her back in New York? Too much. He’d been an idiot, and he was damn well going to make up for it now.

“Hey, Spot, hand me a water, will ya?” Bucky asked, watching out of the corner of his eye for her reaction.

Darcy didn’t disappoint. She smiled sweetly, and retrieved one from the cooler set between them. Then she unscrewed the top, took a long sip, and _licked_ the whole outside of the rim. “Here you go, James,” she said, holding it out to him. “Enjoy my cooties.”

Bucky took it from her without missing a beat, and immediately drank from it. “You should know by now that your cooties don’t scare me, doll. And this?” He shook the bottle so the water sloshed around inside. “Delicious.”

There was a muffled sound of mirth from the backseat. Bucky glanced in the rearview to see Natasha staring down at a Starkpad in her lap with her lips twitching, and Steve’s head bent over hers in an effort to hide the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Goddamn peanut gallery,” Bucky muttered, fighting a smile himself.

“We’ll turn this car around if you two don’t knock it off,” Darcy called back to them. “I’m not even kidding.”

Natasha snorted loudly, but she and Steve subsided into silence again. Darcy winked at Bucky, and then went back to the magazine spread out on her lap. He could get used to this, the easy interactions between them. It felt so good and normal. Like sitting on a boardwalk sharing fried dough, or walking on the beach together, spending time with her felt disarmingly simple. After everything he’d been through, Bucky found himself craving simple.

It had been so very simple the previous night too. Steve and Natasha had picked some restaurant a few blocks from the boardwalk that specialized in craft beers. Bucky wasn’t sure what prompted that choice, but when he found himself seated next to Darcy at a cozy corner table he decided he didn’t really care. The lights were low, there was a little lantern thing on the table flickering away, and her leg kept brushing his every time she moved. 

They shared an appetizer, some kind of seafood thing with scallops covered in fancy breadcrumbs and bacon. Darcy ordered it, looking at him the whole time as if he might say no. Like that was gonna happen. She’d won their race back to the boardwalk fair and square, or not exactly fair and square, but she’d won. Bucky made sure of it.

Steve and Natasha ordered oysters to start. When they came out, Darcy kicked Bucky under the table. The look she gave him with one eyebrow raised said it all, and Bucky wholeheartedly agreed. After their antics that afternoon, the last thing those two needed was some kind of aphrodisiac appetizer. He and Darcy were going to end up strolling the boardwalk all night at this rate. 

He still couldn’t get over Steve nearly knocking the bed through the wall earlier. And the sounds. Bucky hadn’t heard noises like that since 1941, and back then _he’d_ been the cause of them. Good for Stevie, though. Ninety-odd years of being tongue-tied around women was long enough. Natasha seemed to genuinely care about him too, as far as Bucky could tell. He got the feeling that she wasn’t holding her cards as close to her chest as she normally did. It was good to see.

The meal progressed, all of them working their way through their entrees and dessert. Darcy and Natasha also worked their way through the better part of a bottle of wine. He and Steve stuck to beer, trying some of the different kinds the restaurant offered. To Bucky’s amusement, Darcy insisted on testing every one he ordered, claiming that she was checking them for poison. There wasn't any poison, just alcohol, and by the end of the night Darcy seemed pretty well lubricated. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes were overbright, and although she wasn’t stumbling, she wobbled slightly as they left the restaurant.

“Come on, Bucky,” she said, taking his gloved hand in both of hers and pulling him along while she walked backwards down the boardwalk. “I wanna show you the wonders of Netflix.”

“I don’t want to burst your bubble, doll, but Sam has already done the honors on that one,” he told her. 

“Pffft, Sam,” she snorted. “Sam has no idea what he’s talking about. I’m a certified Netflix expert. Let’s go, dude. Hotel, hotel, hotel.” 

She gave his hand another tug with each repetition of the word ‘hotel’. Bucky looked over at Steve helplessly. “Do you guys mind if we take off?”

Steve shared a look with Natasha, and then nodded. “Go on, Buck. Stay out of trouble.” 

His eyes telegraphed a clear message to Bucky over Darcy’s head. The girl was intoxicated, and that meant hands off. Not that it was a necessary warning. There was no way Bucky would have laid a finger on her in that state.

“What kind of trouble could he get into with me?” Darcy asked. “I’m practically harmless, and anyway, we’re only gonna watch TV. It’s not like _we_ were eating oysters or anything.”

She began pulling on his arm again, and Bucky rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, Steve. We’ll be fine.”

“Yessss! Later, losers!” Darcy said. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.”

Bucky just shook his head at the other two while he followed Darcy, allowing himself to be led, but keeping a sharp eye out for things she might trip over. 

Somehow they made it back to the hotel more or less without incident. Once they got in the elevator, though, Darcy suddenly snuggled up to him, at one point nuzzling into his chest and murmuring, “You’re so nice, Barnes.”

The action set his heart thudding in his chest. It was all he could do to keep from wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. That seemed like it might lead to other things, though, and as much as Bucky wanted those other things, he doubted Darcy was in any condition to consent. So he settled for patting her awkwardly on the shoulder, and replying, “I think you’re pretty nice too.” It was a lame response, he knew, but what other option did he have?

Once they were in the room, Darcy kicked off her shoes while Bucky went into the bathroom to get her a cup of water. The quicker she sobered up the better. Especially if she was going to keep prodding at his self-control the way she had in the elevator. Bucky could resist, that wasn't the problem. He just didn't want her to do anything she might be embarrassed about later. Not only that, but he could at least save her the hangover in the morning. Once the cup was full, Bucky shut the tap off, and carried it over to where she was standing by the side of her bed.

Darcy wrinkled her nose at it, taking it from him and setting on the nightstand. “Nope.”

He picked it up and handed it to her again. “You want a headache in the morning?”

“I want a Coke,” she said stubbornly.

“Water,” he insisted. 

“Iced tea?”

“Water.”

“Buuuuuucky,” she whined. “Don’t make me drink faucet water.”

“Come on, doll," he said in a cajoling tone. "It’s for your own good. Down the hatch.”

Darcy took a small sip, glaring at him the whole time. “This is awful. You are torturing me. I am being tortured, right now, by you. It’s inhumane. As soon as I’m sober I’m calling the United Nations to report this heinous breach of the Geneva Conventions.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m a real jerk, saving you from a hangover. Drink your water.”

She sighed loudly, but drank it. As soon as the cup was empty, Bucky refilled it and brought it back to her. 

Her glare returned with a vengeance. “You should know I’m re-thinking our friendship.”

“You’ll thank me in the morning.”

“Ha. Fat chance.”

“Finish that and I’ll let you pick what we watch,” Bucky offered.

He could see her considering it. Her brow furrowed as she glanced from the television to the cup in her hand. 

“Deal,” she finally said. “But no complaining about what I pick.”

Bucky held both hands up. “Not a word.”

She lifted the cup, downing the water and then wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” he said. “And you really will thank me tomorrow. I promise.”

“Whatever, just pass me the remote.”

He gave it to her, and Darcy hopped up on the bed, settling with her back against the headboard. She switched on the TV and scrolled through the menu until she found the red Netflix logo. Bucky took off his boots, and sat down on his own bed, stretching his legs out in front of him. He’d barely gotten comfortable when the room filled with lively piano music.

His eyes narrowed as the opening credits began to roll. What the hell was this? Was it in black and white? Bucky looked over at Darcy, and immediately picked up on the smirk she was trying to hide. 

“What?” he said.

She blinked innocently. “Nothing. You promised that you wouldn’t complain. Watch the movie.”

He folded his arms over his chest, and turned back to the screen. His suspicions were confirmed moments later when Buster Keaton swaggered into view. 

Buster fucking Keaton. He couldn’t believe it. She’d picked a silent film. 

Darcy must have been watching for his reaction, because she started to giggle. “Everything okay over there, Bucky? Because um, I was thinking, you know...what would an old guy like to watch? And then I thought, Buster Keaton.” 

“You’re real considerate,” he remarked dryly. 

“I know. I’m super-good with the elderly. It’s a gift.” She nodded solemnly before breaking into another fit of giggles. It took her a few seconds to pull herself back together, and then she said, “Do you want me to call room service and see if they have some prune juice? I don’t mind.”

“No. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? What about peanut brittle? Oh, wait. That’s bad for dentures, right? How about some nice tapioca pudding?”

Bucky swung his legs off the bed. “That’s it,” he declared. “I’m confiscating the remote.”

“Not if you want to survive the night in one piece, you aren’t,” Darcy replied, twisting sideways so she could hide it behind her back. 

He eyed her tiny frame fiercely guarding the remote, and had to hold back a laugh. “Did you just threaten me with death and dismemberment over a television remote?”

“Yes I did,” she said, lifting her chin with a truly stunning amount of bravado.

“I see." The laugh threatened to break free, but he somehow maintained a straight face long enough to ask, "Out of curiosity, just how do you plan on doing that?”

She bristled. “Are you doubting my abilities to kick your ass, Bucky Barnes? Because that’s what it sounds like to me.”

“Did I say that?” He scratched his jaw thoughtfully. “I don’t remember saying that. Maybe I’m getting senile in my old age. Either that, or yes, I’m doubting your abilities to kick my ass.” 

“Listen, buddy, I’ll have you know that I’m completely capable of wiping the floor with you. In fact, under all this adorable exterior, I’m actually terrifying. You’ve just never seen it, because you haven’t been on the receiving end of my wrath.”

Her wrath? This was too good. Bucky couldn't resist prodding her further. “Is it scarier than watching you try to pitch a tent? Because that was kinda terrifying.”

“Oh. My. God.” Darcy pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Do not make me come over there, Barnes. Or so help me…”

“So help you what?” he asked, grinning at her. “You gonna teach me a lesson, Spot? Let’s see it.” 

The second the nickname left his lips, Bucky knew he was in trouble. Darcy gasped, and her eyes narrowed into slits. “Oh. It is _on_.” 

For a moment she fumbled behind her, and then one of the pillows on her bed was flying at his face. Bucky deflected it easily, and it fell to the floor. Initial attack foiled, Darcy leapt to her feet, another pillow clenched tightly in her hands.

“You don’t want to do this,” he warned her.

“Don’t tell me what I want to do. I’m a completely independent woman, and no amount of you being really hot and bossy is going to change that.” 

She bounced a little on the bed in a way that he assumed was to emphasis her point, but it was hard to tell. Besides, he was too busy sussing through her words.

“What did you just call me? Hot and bossy?” Bucky asked, still grinning.

“Stop talking, jerkface. It’s interfering with my plans to take you out.”

“Hot and bossy.” Bucky pursed his lips. “I like it.”

“I thought I told you to shut up,” Darcy said, stamping her foot on the bed.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, and said, “Make me.”

Without preamble she launched the second pillow at him. Bucky caught it one-handed, and tossed it back. Despite being tipsy, she managed to duck the incoming pillow while throwing another one at his head. Darcy didn’t wait to see if it hit its mark, snatching her last pillow up and hurling it in his direction. 

Bucky was so busy catching the first one she threw, that he didn’t think, just grabbed the second and fired it back at her. It wasn’t until he heard her surprised ‘oof’ that he realized he’d thrown it with his left arm. Fuck. He looked up just in time to see her tumble straight off the side of the bed backwards.

A jolt of panic hit Bucky, and he dove across her bed in an effort to see if she was okay. He was nearly on top of her when he realized he’d been had. 

“Victory is mine!” Darcy shouted, smacking him in the face with the pillow that had knocked her over. She used his surprise to her advantage, jumping back onto the bed and thumping him relentlessly. “I told you I was terrifying, but did you believe me? Oh no. You didn’t. And look where that got you.”

Her triumph didn’t last long. Within seconds Bucky formed a plan of attack, and implemented it. He grabbed her ankle, yanking her down onto the bed. Darcy went over with a shriek, flailing wildly. It was child’s play to wrestle the pillow out of her grip. In no time Bucky was straddling her hips, his cybernetic hand pinning her to the bed, while he held the pillow up in the other. 

“Surrender,” he said to her.

“Never,” she hissed, trying to simultaneously shove him off, and wriggle out of his grip.

Bucky lifted the pillow higher. “I’m warning you, doll. Surrender and I’ll let you walk away with your dignity.”

Darcy stuck her tongue out him. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

“Alright,” he said, “but remember, you asked for it.”

“Wait!” she yelped as the pillow was starting to descend. “Time out!”

He paused with it mere inches from her face. “What?”

“Um, well the thing is,” Darcy hedged, refusing to look at him, “I possibly, maybe, kind of have to pee, like, a lot. So unless you want to be finishing this pillow fight in a puddle, you might want to let me up so I can use the bathroom. And stop smirking at me. This is all your fault from the water torture earlier.”

“You sure it had nothing to do with you drinking half a bottle of wine at dinner?” Bucky asked.

“I’m not dignifying that with a reply,” she sniffed.

He rolled off her and jerked his head at the bathroom door. “Go on. Consider it an armistice.”

Darcy clambered off the bed and headed for the bathroom, taking her backpack along with her. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Bucky figured she must have decided to get ready for bed as well, and that’s what the backpack was about. He started searching for the remote, finding it on the floor between the nightstand and her bed. Just as he’d begun scrolling for something else to watch, Darcy came back out.

Bucky glanced over at her and immediately wished he hadn’t. He’d been right about her getting ready for bed. The clothes she’d been wearing had been replaced with an oversized t-shirt that skimmed her curves and barely made it midway down her thighs. Not only that, but she had her hair messily piled up on her head, emphasizing the deep v neckline of the shirt. 

It seemed like everywhere Bucky looked he was confronted with tantalizing expanses of bare skin. He tried focusing on the TV, but it didn’t help. All he could see was Darcy standing there wearing next to nothing with no clue what she was doing to him.

“What are we watching,” she asked, back arching as she stretched her arms over her head.

He closed his eyes, and thought about weapons maintenance. That almost worked until she flopped down on the bed next to him, and began shifting around trying to get comfortable. Each small movement caused her body to graze against his, and Bucky wanted to bang his head on the wall behind him. This was so much worse than the elevator. 

“Hey.” She nudged his knee with hers. “Earth to Bucky, come in Bucky. I asked you a question.”

“Sorry,” he answered, trying to pretend he’d just been occupied with the choices on the Netflix menu screen. “I haven’t really decided yet.”

“Oh. Well, can I make a suggestion then?”

Was she kidding? If Darcy had requested the moon at the moment Bucky probably would have made an attempt to get it for her. If only to get out of the room before he did something stupid. “Sure.”

“How about something creepy?" she said. "Like a bad horror movie, or paranormal flick. That way we can laugh and be scared at the same time.”

He immediately handed the remote over to her. It took a couple minutes, but she finally found what she was looking for and hit play. The movie started out okay enough. There were a bunch of people living in some desert town, and then, all of a sudden…

“What the hell is that thing?” Bucky asked, staring at the screen in disbelief.

“It’s a man-eating worm,” Darcy replied. “This part is so good. Any minute now Crazy Earl is gonna start to kick ass with Kevin Bacon.”

“A man-eating worm.” Bucky shook his head. “And the seismologist?”

“When the worms move they make these mini-earthquakes. She can sort of predict when they’re close with her equipment.”

“Huh. Alright.”

A few more minutes passed while they both just watched the movie. Then one of the worms popped up out of the ground unexpectedly. Well, it was unexpected for Bucky. Darcy seemed to be anticipating it, but she still gave a little jump. She glanced over to see if he noticed, and started to laugh.

“That part always gets me,” she said. “And I’ve seen this movie, like, ten million times. Clint loves it. We watched it every night for a whole week straight once. I think Natasha was ready to murder us both by the end.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let any man-eating worms get you. We’re on the second floor anyway. Unless they figure out how to use stairs, we’re fine.”

“You’d think that would be enough, but in the second movie they have legs, and wings... Or were the wings the third movie? I can’t remember, but yeah, they’re way more mobile in the sequels than they were in the first movie.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what was worse, that the worms ended up with legs, or that they made more than one movie. "They grow legs?”

“No. The babies have legs.” A worm popped up and ate a grocery store clerk as they were speaking, and Darcy giggled. “I know I shouldn’t laugh that, but it’s really one of those it’s so bad it’s good kind of things. I mean, a giant muppet worm just crashed through the floor, and _ate_ that guy. That’s a thing. That we are watching. Think about that. Some film guys sat in a room once and said, ‘I know. Let’s make a movie about huge mutant worms that eat people. It will be like Jaws, only with nematodes.’ And a bunch of other film guys agreed, because why not? Right? Why not have man-eating worms terrorizing a tiny village in the desert, and snacking on innocent grocery store clerks?”

What the hell was Jaws? Bucky wanted to ask, but sometimes he felt like all he did was ask questions when he was talking to Darcy. She’d gone quiet again, eyes following the action on the screen. A few minutes later she yawned, and curled closer to him, head dropping down on his shoulder.

“Don’t freak out if I fall asleep, okay?” she said. “Wine makes me tired, and I promise not to molest you if I wake up in the middle of the night in your bed.”

The thought of her spending the night in his bed burned through him, and ignited a longing so strong it made his gut hurt. It wasn’t even the sexual aspect, either, although that was definitely there. Just the thought of having her next to him through the night...the closeness, being able to hold her...it was part of a life he never thought he’d get to have. And he wanted it. Badly. 

Which is why, if she _did_ fall asleep, Bucky would put her in her own bed. When they spent the night together, if it ever happened, it should be because Darcy wanted that as much as he did. It felt like they were slowly making their way towards something bigger at the moment. At least he hoped they were. So he could wait. He could be patient. He’d give her a chance to catch up to him, and not steal tiny bits of what he wanted without her knowing it in the meantime.

“Mmph, arm,” Darcy muttered, tugging on his prosthetic, and pulling it away from his body.

“What are you…” he started to say, but she’d already begun burrowing under it, and cuddling up against his side.

“Oh, that is so much better. No offense, because I love the robo-arm, but it is really uncomfortable when you’re trying to use it as a pillow.”

He held his metal arm awkwardly away from her body, wondering if he should lay it across the top of the headboard, or what. “Yeah well, I don’t think HYDRA really had that in mind when they built it.”

“They’re dumb,” she said sleepily. “Okay. You can put it down now.”

Down? Did she really want…? He very gingerly rested his arm over her shoulders, and Darcy gave a little, impatient huff. She crossed her right hand over her body, taking hold of his wrist and pulling his arm around her snugly. 

“There,” she said, patting his elbow with a happy little sigh. “M’kay. Movie time, shhh.”

It didn’t take long until he could hear her breathing turn slow and steady as she became a warm, solid weight along his side. For the second time in one day, Bucky ended up with a passed out Darcy in his arms. He finished the movie while she slept, telling himself it was because he didn’t want to disturb her sooner than he had to. It was a lie that even he had a hard time swallowing.

The credits were rolling while he carefully settled her in her own bed, and covered her up, taking care to brush a stray lock of hair off her face so it wouldn’t bother her. It wasn’t until he heard the door to the room Steve and Natasha were staying in open and close that Bucky realized he’d been standing there watching Darcy sleep. What was that thing Barton was always saying? Stick a fork in him, he was done? Yeah. Bucky scrubbed his hand over his face sheepishly. Stick a fork in him. He was done.

If Darcy noticed he’d put her in her own bed when she woke up, she didn’t mention it. He was up and showered long before she even stirred, but waited for her to get ready before leaving to find something to eat. They ended up having pancakes in a little hole in the wall cafe a few blocks from the hotel. Steve and Natasha joined them right after the waitress poured the coffee. An hour later, and the four of them were on the road, headed south. Which brought them up to the present, and Bucky splitting his attention between the road, and the girl in the seat next to him.

She must have caught him watching her, because she looked up from her magazine and smiled. “You okay?” Darcy asked.

He thought about it for a moment, about how easy, and simple, and goddamn _good_ things felt when he was with her. Bucky found himself returning her smile with one of his own, and he was able to answer her question without a doubt in his mind.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I am.”


	9. Kissing Lessons, Brooklyn Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha wins everything, Steve finds out the more things change the more they stay the same, Bucky proves France has nothing on Brooklyn, and Darcy discovers SOMEONE was flirting with her after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy flipping cats. The past couple weeks have been crazytown around here. Trying to get this chapter done was really hard. I desperately wanted to update last week, but it just wasn't happening with everything going on here. Plus this chapter is really important to me, and I wanted it to be just right. Thank you so much to Anniemar, who was an awesome support as always. 
> 
> Now, onto the important stuff. (Because I know some of you were waiting very patiently...)
> 
> The wait is officially over. ;)
> 
> **************************************************************************

Darcy stood alone by the side of the ferry on the way over to Ocracoke Island in the Outer Banks. She’d picked a quiet spot, midway down the line of cars, far from the other tourists up by the prow. Steve and Natasha had headed for the second story deck shortly after the all clear was given, and Bucky was still back at the SUV doing...something. She wasn’t sure what.

In spite of her whining, his water torture from the night before had worked. Darcy didn’t have a hangover. Not only that, but she’d woken up in the morning to find a fresh glass of water and two ibuprofen on the hotel nightstand by her bed. She didn’t know what was cuter, that Bucky had obviously tucked her into bed after she’d fallen asleep watching Tremors, or that he’d thought to leave pain meds for her when she woke up.

Darcy took them even though she didn’t have a headache. She figured maybe they would help with the bruise on her hip that she must have gotten when she fell off the bed during the pillow fight. Just thinking about the pillow fight made her smile. Bucky’s panicked face popping over the side of the bed after he knocked her down was the best thing ever. It was so worth being slightly bruised to see that. Also, not for nothing, but being pinned down onto a bed by nearly six feet of serum enhanced mancake had been really, really awesome. She totally wanted to try that again. 

Parts of the previous night remained a little fuzzy, though. Specifically the parts that included getting back to the hotel. Darcy vaguely remembered dragging Bucky down the boardwalk after her, and possibly doing some pretty embarrassing things in the elevator. Like when she blatantly nuzzled his chest and told him she thought he was nice, and oh God, had she really done that? It was probably best not to think about it. Or mention it. Ever.

Anyway, it was really hard to concentrate on being mortified when there was much awesome scenery to take in. A group of pelicans came into view, flying in perfect unison over the water. They were so graceful, bodies nearly skimming the surface as they dipped low over the waves. 

The breeze off the Pamlico Sound blew Darcy’s hair off her face, and sent it fluttering around her shoulders. A seagull drew up alongside the boat, keeping pace with it. The bird had a striking black face, and as she watched, it turned and let out a noisy squawk.

“Sorry, dude. No food here,” she told it. “Besides, I know how this works. You guys send ahead a scout to look for easy marks before unleashing the rest of the flock, and I’m not falling for it again.”

“You should see the ones they used to have at Coney Island,” Bucky said, joining her at the rail. “Practically picked your pocket if you made the mistake of feeding one.”

Darcy looked up at him with a wide smile. “I’m not surprised. City seagulls are a whole different breed. Like the pigeons. You know, back at Stark Tower there’s this one that used to hang out on Thor and Jane’s balcony. I could never go out there, because anytime I did, it started doing this whole bird courtship ritual. It was so weird. I’m not really sure what to think about that...me being irresistible to a pigeon.”

“I don’t know. Sounds to me like he had pretty good taste in women,” Bucky replied. 

Darcy nudged his boot with the toe of her sneaker. “Are you flirting with me, co-pilot Barnes?”

“Me? Flirting? What gave you that idea, doll?” he said with a grin.

“Oh nothing. Except for the part where you keep telling me I’m pretty, which you did yesterday, and again just now. Not that I’m paying attention or anything, because I’m totally not.”

“Kind of like how I’m not paying attention to you using me like a pillow again last night?”

“Yup.” She nodded. “Kind of exactly like that.”

Bucky shrugged. “Since we’re both not paying attention, I guess we’ll never know.”

“That’s too bad,” Darcy said, watching him carefully to gauge what he was thinking. “I mean, let's just say hypothetically that we _were_ flirting. Wouldn’t we maybe be missing out on seeing where the flirting was going by not paying attention?”

“It sounds like you've been doing some thinking about this."

"I might have given it some thought...hypothetically, of course. It's a theory. That I have. Potentially."

"Okay." He nodded slowly. "So supposing you're hypothetically right about your potential theory, did you have a solution in mind?”

This was it. Darcy could feel it. They’d hit a crossroads, and whatever happened right now was going to affect how their relationship was defined from here on out. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind how she wanted things to go. Hopefully, Bucky felt the same, or she was about to make a huge mistake.

“Possibly.” Darcy took a breath, trying to work around the sudden fluttery feeling in her chest. “I was thinking maybe we could start paying attention, and let things happen. If that’s something you would want.”

He leaned closer to her, turning his body so they were facing each other, and quietly said, “I’ve been wanting it, sweetheart. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

At his words, the fluttery feeling rose several notches, and Darcy completely forgot there were pelicans, or gulls, or even a ferry. “I’m caught up,” she told him. 

“Yeah?” Bucky’s gaze raked over her face, lingering on her lips before coming back to rest on her eyes. 

It was obvious what he wanted, and hell yes. Darcy canted her chin in a subtle invitation. “ _So_ caught up.”

His head bent over hers, voice lowering to a husky rasp. “Maybe I should do something about that, then.”

Bucky cupped her jaw in his hands, thumbs stroking her skin, as he tilted her face upwards. Darcy barely had a moment to process the cool, smooth metal on one side, and warm skin on the other, before his mouth descended on hers. It began as light exploration, like he was relearning muscle memory long buried. Gradually the pressure increased, his movements becoming bolder and more sure.

Darcy couldn’t remember having been kissed like that before. It was nothing she expected from him, sweet, gentle, somehow completely chaste and incredibly hot all at the same time. With a final, soft brush of his lips along hers, Bucky pulled away. She tried to chase after them, but he held her firm, forehead touching hers, and eyes scanning her face.

“Was that… I mean…” He cleared his throat, glancing away before bringing his eyes back to hers. “I used to be good at that. Once, anyway. Probably a little rusty now.”

“That wasn’t rusty,” she assured him, wondering how soon they could try it again. “In fact, I’d call that the complete opposite of rusty.”

One side of Bucky’s mouth quirked up in a relieved half-smile. “Yeah?”

“Bucky, my knees are shaking. It was good. Trust me,” Darcy insisted. “Of course that doesn't mean I’m not open to helping you get a little more practice in. Who knows what you might have missed in the past seventy years, right? There might be some areas where I could bring you up to speed. If you want, that is.”

She had only meant him needing practice as a joke, but it was like she’d flipped a switch. His eyes immediately darkened, and he gave her a sultry, teasing look that sent heat skittering down her spine. 

“Oh, I want,” he said. 

“Super,” she all but whispered, completely distracted by the expression on his face. “We should get right on that.”

“Anything specific in mind?” Bucky asked. “Since you know, you’re bringing me up to speed and all.”

This was the guy Darcy had expected during the first kiss, and she was pretty sure there was nothing _he_ needed to be brought up to speed on, but she couldn’t resist playing along. 

“Well, there’s this one type of kissing. I think it was um, popularized in France? Anyway, it’s kind of all the rage in modern times”

“Is that so?” He nodded, scraping his teeth over his bottom lip in a way that made her glad she was leaning up against the side of the boat for support. “Not sure I’m familiar, but I’m a quick study. How’s it done?” 

She wasn't buying his innocent act for a second. It was obvious he was more than familiar with what they were talking about. This was even better than the pillow fight. Bucky thought he knew this game? Ha. Darcy was going to wreck him, and wreck him hard.

“Well, you see, the thing is...I think maybe a demonstration might be better,” she told him.

He cocked his head, one eyebrow raised as if considering her offer. “Alright. If that’s what you think is best. I’m all yours, Lewis.”

Did he just say he was all hers? Really? Darcy was going to die of sexual tension right there on a ferry in the middle of the Pamlico Sound. But not before she got some more kissing in, because no matter how faint with lust Bucky was making her feel, a girl needs to have some goddamn priorities. Speaking of those priorities, she needed to get back to business.

“Okay, so basically, I’m going to put my lips on yours. Like this.” She stretched up and pressed her mouth against his.

“That it?” he asked. "Because I feel like we already covered this a minute ago."

She pulled back and made what she hoped was a stern expression. “No talking during the lesson.”

“Right. Sorry.” Bucky put both hands behind his back, smiling angelically at her. “I promise to behave this time.”

Darcy doubted he even had a passing acquaintance with behaving, but whatever. She was in control, and it was damn well going to stay that way. “So, as I was saying, I’m going to put my lips on yours and then do some other stuff. Just follow my lead.”

She didn’t give Bucky a chance to reply, just slid her arms around his neck, and kissed him. He went along with the game for about three more seconds, acting completely pliant and inexperienced while Darcy took the reins. Then she licked across the seam of his closed lips and all bets were off. In a flash, one of Bucky's hands had moved up to cup the back of her head, while the other one gripped her waist, tugging her hips flush with his. 

“Let me see if maybe I’ve got this,” he murmured, nipping her bottom lip between his teeth, and then running his tongue over where he’d just bitten. “That more like it?”

Her body’s response was immediate. Warmth pooled low in her belly, and she clutched at him, fingers tangling in his hair. Bucky must have taken that as a yes, because his lips were suddenly slanting over Darcy’s with more urgency, and his tongue slipped into her mouth, teasingly stroking hers. 

She gasped, and he gave a low chuckle, licking into her mouth once more before flicking his tongue against the back of her teeth. Darcy melted into his embrace, pulse echoing loudly in her ears. About the time she remembered breathing was something she needed to do, he sucked her bottom lip between his, gently tugging on it before breaking the kiss. 

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then Darcy poked him in the chest and said, “You are a dirty liar, James Buchanan Barnes.”

He grinned down at her. “Yeah well, we might of had that kinda kissing in Brooklyn too.”

“Like I said, a dirty liar. And who were all these girls you were kissing like that in Brooklyn back then?”

“You want names?”

She dropped her head on his chest, laughing. “No. Please no. Just pretend I didn’t ask.”

“You sure? Because things have been coming back easier lately,” Bucky replied. “I could probably dig up one or two if I really tried.”

“Well...this is cozy,” Natasha’s amused voice remarked.

They both froze. For a moment no one said anything, and then Bucky slowly straightened up. “Something you need, Natalia?” he inquired without turning around. 

Darcy leaned around him so that she could see Nat standing a few feet away between two of the parked cars. She was holding a large notepad in her hands, and was wearing a cat that ate the canary expression.

“Not a thing,” she answered. “Steve left his sketchpad in the car, and I came down to get it for him. Sorry if I’m interrupting. I’ll just leave you to it. You know where to find us when you’re...done.”

She turned around, rapidly disappearing into the line of cars. Darcy wondered how much she'd tell Steve. Probably everything. Great.

“I can’t believe Nat just busted us,” she said. “We are going to get so much shit for this now.”

He chuckled. “If it’s any consolation, I’m gonna get it worse than you. Steve’s been pushing for me to get off my ass and make a move on you for months.”

“Well Steve can suck it,” Darcy replied. “The two of them practically broke the hotel back in Virginia. Kissing on a boat is a far cry from almost driving a bed through a solid wall, and into the adjoining room. Anyway, they’re making us sleep in tents. They owe it to us not to be jerks.”

“Speaking of that, you want some help getting yours set up this time? Since Rock passed away and all.” 

“I’m sorry, did we or did we not have the independent woman conversation last night when I was drunk?”

“We did.”

“And didn’t I prove to you that I am completely capable of handling things on my own?”

“Unless we remember things very differently, I came out on top last night. I’m game for a rematch, though.” He leaned back casually against the rail, and licked his lips. “Can’t say I’d mind having you on top of me this time.”

A mental image of her straddling his fucking thighs of sexy perfection went through Darcy's head, and she nearly hit the deck. “Shut up, Bucky,” she said weakly. “Just shut up.”

“That a no to the rematch?”

She looked up at his cocked eyebrow, and playful half-grin, and promptly looked away. “Ugh. Yes, okay?”

“Yes it’s a no, or yes it’s a yes?” Bucky asked.

“Yes it’s a yes, and also yes you need to stop talking right now before I drag you into the car and forcibly remove your pants.”

“Not sure I see how that’s a bad thing, but okay.”

“Trust me, it’s all fun and games until they throw us overboard for breaking some kind of maritime law regarding lewd behavior on a moving ferry,” Darcy said.

“And what would Steve say?” Bucky added.

“Exactly. Come on, co-pilot Barnes. Let’s go upstairs and face the music for getting caught fooling around or whatever, before Natasha decides to come back down and check on us.”

“That wasn’t fooling around,” he scoffed.

“Oh yeah?” she asked. “What’s fooling around then?”

He flashed a her a wolfish smile, and took her hand. “I’ll show you later in the tent.”

The stairwell leading to the upper deck was narrow enough that they had to navigate it single file. Bucky was behind her on the way up, and Darcy wondered what was going through his head. Her own mind was a jumble of post-kiss excitement, wondering what exactly fooling around entailed, and lastly the thought that he was probably checking out her ass. 

“Are you checking out my ass?” she demanded as they neared the upper level.

“Sorry, doll, I save my confessions for church,” Bucky replied. "Anyway, if I am, it’s purely out of admiration for the female form. Specifically yours. Those legs go all the way up?”

“I don’t know,” she told him. “I guess you’ll find out later in the tent.”

Bucky made a muffled sound that strongly resembled a groan, and Darcy figured she’d won that round.

It was easy to spot Steve and Natasha once they were at the top. Steve was sitting on one of the benches lining the sides with his sketchbook propped up on one knee, and Nat was leaning her arms on the rail, watching the outline of Ocracoke Island loom up on the horizon. Because she was facing away from the stairs, Steve saw them first. 

“Hey Buck, Darcy,” he greeted them, and the corner of mouth began twitching suspiciously. “I wasn’t sure if we’d see you up here. Natasha said the view downstairs was second to none.”

“I bet she did," Darcy said. “Hey, I meant to ask you guys, how did the furniture rearranging in the hotel go yesterday? It sounded like you were really invested in it, which is weird, because the rooms seemed pretty conveniently set up to begin with. Wasn’t the bed where you wanted it?”

Natasha turned around, pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head. “We were practicing tactical maneuvers,” she lied smoothly. “I like to keep limber in case of unforeseen threats.”

There was really nothing else to say to that. Mostly because Darcy was trying not to burst into laughter at the look on Steve’s face. She opted for plopping onto the bench next to him so she could see what he’d been sketching. Bucky ended up next to her, arm stretched out along the back of the bench so it brushed her shoulders whenever she moved. 

She’d expected Steve’s drawing to be some kind of seascape. Instead it was a collection of character sketches of the other people on the ferry. The best one was of two little boys in three-quarter profile, leaning over the rail, and pointing at something, with happy, excited smiles on their faces.

Darcy looked around the deck and saw the subjects across the way. They were sitting down now, one on either side of what she assumed was their mother, sharing a little pack of Oreos. The younger boy was swinging his legs, little red sneakers miles away from the ground. He noticed her looking, and waved. She waved back.

It was easy to get lulled into a drowsy state with the sound of the ferry engine rumbling away, and the warm sun beating down. Darcy was content to let her head rest against Bucky’s arm while watching Steve’s swift pencil strokes as he drew. 

At one point, she caught him surreptitiously glancing over at Nat, who was still standing at the side of the ferry. He flipped the page, and a new drawing began to take shape. Darcy found herself smiling as Steve brought Natasha to life on the stark, white paper. It was hard to miss the affection he had for her. Each line was put down with care, and in the end there was a softness to her expression that Darcy knew was rarely seen. It was a look Natasha reserved for the few people she truly loved and trusted. The end result was beautiful, and Darcy told him so.

“I had a beautiful subject,” Steve said. 

“Something tells me Stevie is gonna be practicing some tactical maneuvers later with his subject,” Bucky muttered to Darcy under his breath, and she had to hold back a laugh.

Darcy wasn’t sure how enhanced the super-serum had made Steve’s hearing, but he definitely caught Bucky’s comment. He turned his head, speaking to Darcy, but staring straight at Bucky the entire time.

“You know, Bucky can draw. We took some classes together back before he enlisted. Has he told you that?”

"Really?" She swiveled around to face Bucky. 

“Nah,” he protested. “Steve’s the artist. My stuff is all chicken scratch compared to what he does. You don't want to see that.”

“Don’t let him lie to you. He made a pile drawing pin-ups for guys during the war. Show her, Buck.” Steve held his pad of paper and pencil out to Bucky.

“You think I wanna follow that act?” Bucky said, jerking his head at the sketch of Natasha.

“Please?” Darcy asked. 

Steve grinned in a way that made Darcy sure he was getting even for Bucky's tactical maneuvers comment. “Are you really going to turn down a request from a lady, Buck?”

He sighed. “Alright, but only because she said please, and I know you won’t stop ragging my ass unless I do.”

Bucky took the sketchpad and pencil from Steve, and opened it to an empty page. Then he shifted so Darcy couldn’t see what he was drawing.

“Don't I get to watch?”

“Nope,” he replied, right hand moving quickly over the page in short strokes. 

He worked in complete silence, brow furrowing now and then as he paused to take in what he had down. Things must have started to come together after a few minutes, because Darcy could see a small smile tugging at the edges of his mouth as he added lines here or there. Finally he looked up. 

“All done?” she asked.

“As done as it’s gonna get,” Bucky said. “Don’t expect much. I’m out of practice.”

He turned the sketchbook over to her, and sat back against the bench. Darcy could tell he was trying to act nonchalant, but it was obvious that he was waiting to see what she thought. She switched her attention over to the figure on the page. The curvy, laughing girl he'd drawn was in a traditional pin-up pose, facing away and looking over her shoulder at the viewer. She was wearing sheer babydoll pajamas, and her hair cascaded down her back in loose waves. It was only a black and white sketch due to the medium used, but Bucky’s pin-up looked like a lot like a Petty without the trademark ballet shoes.

She also looked extremely familiar.

To Darcy's left, Steve gave a soft cough. “Good looking dame,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

Natasha leaned away from the rail so she could see the drawing of Darcy, and raised both eyebrows at Bucky, but didn’t say anything. Not that she had to, her expression pretty much said it all. 

“You were totally checking out my ass on the stairs,” Darcy declared, waving the sketchbook at Bucky accusingly. “I knew it.”

Steve began laughing. “That sounds like Bucky. The first time we had a nude model in class, he practically knocked me over trying to get a better look at her.” 

Bucky shook his head. “That’s not how I remember it. What I remember is you nearly denting the floor with your jaw when she took off her robe.”

“So basically both of you acted like complete idiots when confronted with a naked girl,” Darcy remarked.

“Nice to know some things never change,” Natasha said with a smirk. "I seem to remember a similar situation myself with Steve here."

“Don't you think that's a little unfair, Romanoff? Considering the first time I ever saw you...you know...” Steve paused, gesturing at Natasha with one hand. “...we were covered in some kind of toxic slime, and you stripped down in front of me to rinse it off without a word of warning first.”

“Here I thought you were too busy examining the the shower curtain for potential threats to notice,” she replied.

“Well, I figured you wouldn’t want me staring. I’ve been around long enough to know that a chemical exposure emergency isn’t exactly a seduction attempt.”

Natasha gave him a look. “How do you know it wasn’t?”

“We were under attack,” Steve said. “That’s why. Wait. Was it?”

“Considering what happened later, you tell me,” she responded. 

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“There was more than one empty bathroom in that building, Captain. You draw whatever conclusion you want from me choosing the one you just happened to be holed up in.”

“I just thought…”

“Yes?” Nat arched a brow at him.

“Well, we were partners on that mission, and...” Steve’s sentence petered off. “I’m an idiot.”

Darcy and Bucky had been watching the ensuing back and forth with increasing interest. As it continued, she started to feel sorry that they didn't have some popcorn to share. 

“He really hasn’t changed at all, has he?” Darcy whispered.

“Other than being a hell of a lot bigger?" Bucky shook his head. "No."

“I can hear you two,” Steve said.

Just then a horn blew, and a scratchy voice came over the loudspeakers saying that everyone needed to return to their vehicles for docking. The four of them lined up with the other passengers on their way down to the bottom deck. It was less than ten minutes until they reached Ocracoke Island. Docking took about another ten. Darcy was starting to feel impatient by the time the crew of the ferry gave the cars clearance to exit. 

The island itself was long and narrow, with a small village clustered around Silver Lake Harbor on one end. Their campsite wasn’t too far from the town, but they stopped at a little grocery store in town to pick some things up first. It was well past lunchtime when they found their section, and Bucky shut the engine off. 

Darcy opened her door, stepping out onto the sandy ground. The sound of the surf crashing on the shore filled the air, and heat rose in waves from the paved walkway that led to the beach. A little crab scuttled through the grass at her feet into a grove of wild palmettos. All this, and Bucky had kissed her.

It was enough to change a girl’s mind about camping road trips.

She looked across the hood of the SUV and caught Bucky checking her out. His eyes darted away, lips curving up into a grin. 

After a second he turned back, giving her a shrug as if to say, ‘Well, what did you expect?’, before saying, “You want to go for a swim with me after we get things set up here, Lewis?”

“What, like normal people? Without boots, or gloves, or hidden weapons strapped to your body? Just you and me...” Darcy pointed first at him, and then at herself. “... wearing bathing suits, in the water?”

“That’s the idea,” Bucky replied. “You in?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I’m in. How fast can we get the tents up?”

Yeah. Camping. Darcy absolutely loved it.


	10. Sharks, Lies, and Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy decides to take up knitting, Bucky has a much better night than he expected, and the combined forces of Romanoff and Rogers continue to be right about everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the posting delay, this chapter just kept growing, and growing, and there was nothing I could do about it. It turned out to be twice as long as what I normally post. Plus, holy crap, holiday shopping is kicking my butt right now. Last week was crazy busy. 
> 
> And there may or may not be some sexy sexy. Which is my apology for being late. Also just because dammit, it was time for some sexy sexy.
> 
> ******************************************************

They weren’t in the water more than five minutes before Bucky was positive about three things. One, Darcy and her goddamn vintage two piece bathing suit was going to be the death of him. Two, she was blissfully ignorant of that fact, and three, Bucky fucking _loved_ sharks.

Darcy didn’t, though. She hated them. The upshot of all this was that anytime so much as a tiny leaf of seaweed brushed her skin, Darcy ended up huddled against him for protection. This meant he was currently supporting an armful of curvy, clinging, _wet_ female. All in all, it wasn’t a bad position to be in. Bucky still couldn’t resist teasing her a little. 

“You know,” he said, directing his voice at the head full of windblown curls that was buried in the crook of his neck, “if there really was a shark, it would just take us both under.”

She removed her face from his shoulder long enough to say, “No it wouldn’t. You’d just punch it with your super sexy arm of bionic hotness, and it would go away.”

“Is that what you think?”

“No. That’s what I know.” 

He shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Well, it’s just a suggestion,” she replied, “but since I’m already right here, I’m open to you kissing me.”

Bucky could feel the grin sliding into place on his face. “I don’t know. We start that and you might end up out here with sharks for a while, doll.”

“I guess that’s just a sacrifice I’ll have to make,” Darcy said solemnly. “So, are you gonna take me up on my offer, or am I going to have to add a ‘please’?”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re dangerous?”

“Who, me? What are you talking about? I’m completely sweet, and innocent, and I can see I’m going to have to go with saying please. So, please? Please, Bucky? I really, really think you should kiss me for like, a myriad of reasons, the least of which being...”

Her sentence ended abruptly as Bucky decided to take little Miss Sweet and Innocent up on her offer. He turned his back firmly on the beach, and brought his mouth to hers. She responded immediately, lips parting, and body pressing eagerly against his. Bucky inhaled sharply, his hands skimming down her sides to catch at her hips and pull her closer. Rationally, he knew that what they were doing was risky. There were still other people on shore. People who would likely notice if things went too far. Then Darcy let out a low, soft moan, and Bucky decided the people on the shore could go fuck themselves.

“We should probably stop,” she said, once they’d broken apart to breathe. 

“You’re right, we should.” He nodded, trying to compensate for the complete lack of conviction in his voice. “And we will. In a minute.”

“Right. A minute. Good.” She pulled his face back down to hers.

A minute ticked away and turned into two, then three, and when Darcy cinched her legs tighter around him under the waves so she could grind against where he was already starting to ache for her, Bucky lost track of time entirely. The only thought in his head was how damn much he wanted her. 

“Should we take this to the tent?” she asked. “I think maybe we should.”

He groaned, resting his forehead in the crook of her neck. “Can’t. Steve and Natasha are still back at the campsite. Besides, if we go in right now the entire beach is getting a show.”

“Later, then,” Darcy said, reluctantly unwinding herself from around him to drop down into the water.

Bucky’s immediate reaction was to pull her back into his arms. He knew exactly where that would lead, though, so instead he took her hand. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was still a connection, and he’d take it. She tipped her head back to look at him, smile blooming on her face.

“I just want to point out that a couple weeks ago you wouldn’t even share popcorn with me, and right now you’re holding my hand in front of a beach full of witnesses.”

“I said you were dangerous, didn’t I?” he told her.

“Mmmm, you did. So, since we’re kind of stuck here at the moment…” Darcy looked pointedly at the place where his body disappeared beneath the waves. “...we need something to do.”

“What do you suggest?”

“We could find out how accurate your Wikipedia entry is.”

He blinked. “I have a Wikipedia entry?”

“Bucky, you’re a decorated WWII hero who fought alongside Captain America. Of course you have a Wikipedia entry. Don’t you ever google yourself?”

No, he didn’t. More to the point, she _had_. “You googled me?”

“Are you kidding me? You were like, the first Howling Commando I ever googled. And we’re not talking recently. We’re talking back in high school, dude. Half the girls in my class had a serious thing for you. You were adorable, and tragic, and according the internet, a real lady killer. That’s teenage girl kryptonite.”

“Oh yeah? So what else does it say?”

“Other than the stuff about you being a national hero? Let me see if I can remember…” She pulled her hand out of his so she could tick them off on her fingers. “You liked to cut a rug and Charleston, or whatever grandpa dance you and Steve used to do back then. You loved cherry pie, you had a thing for Betty Grable, and you looked ridiculously hot in your sergeant’s uniform. True or false?”

“First off, if Stevie and I were cutting any rugs, it wasn’t with the Charleston. That was long over before we ever walked into our first dance hall. Not that Steve was much of a dancer. He did a lot of holding up the wall while I took the dames out on the floor.”

“Okay. What about cherry pie, and Betty Grable?” she asked. 

“Cherry pie is my favorite, but Betty Grable was Dum Dum. He loved the blondes. I was always more of a Hedy Lamarr kind of guy,” Bucky corrected. “What was that last bit about my uniform?”

“That part was actually just my opinion based on the picture in your Wikipedia entry,” Darcy said. “I may or may not have a thing for guys in uniform. Specifically you, and specifically the one you used to wear. Although...” She leaned back slightly, and looked him up and down. “...this is good too. Anyway, tell me something else. Something I can’t find on the internet.”

“Something else, huh?” He thought for a moment. “Okay, the first time I saw you, you were wearing a blue dress and bright yellow heels.”

“That’s not exactly something I don’t...” she began.

“All I could think about was what you would look like out of the dress,” Bucky continued, unable to suppress a grin at the expression on her face, “and in my bed.” 

“Oh.” Darcy swallowed. “And the heels?”

One eyebrow ticked up. “On.”

“You win. I definitely didn’t know that. Although _why_ I didn’t know that seems like a huge oversight on your part.” She paused, shaking her head at him. “We are so putting that whole scenario in the ‘to happen immediately once we get back’ box. For real.”

“That a promise?” he asked.

“Bucky are you even serious right now? Yes. We are doing that along with a whole bunch of other things, unless you object. You don’t object, do you?”

He definitely didn’t object. “No.”

“Good, because now that I’ve seen you without a shirt on, there is no going back for me.”

“You saw me without a shirt on two days ago.”

“Yeah,” she said, smirking at him. “I know.”

“But that means…”

“Yes. It does.”

Bucky made a grab for her, and she shot off to the side, swimming out of his reach. Catching up with her would have been easy, but as Darcy turned her back on him to cut through the water with a few lazy strokes, a whole different plan occurred to him. He slipped up behind her so he could lightly brush his fingers over her calf.

Darcy promptly straightened up, eyes darting around nervously. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Bucky asked. 

“Something bumped me.”

“I don’t see anything,” he said, pretending to look while stealthily reaching around her again to tap her arm.

She squeaked. “I’m serious, there’s something touching me. I felt it.”

“Probably just a guppy.” Bucky tapped her hip this time, quickly pulling his hand away when she spun around to look where it had just been.

“Please tell me there are no pointy dorsal fins in the water behind me,” Darcy said, clutching him around the waist. 

He made a big show of checking their general vicinity. “Uhhhhhhh...nope. Nothing.”

“Are you sure? Not even a little school of fish or something? Seaweed?”

“You know what?” he asked, this time he didn’t bother tapping, just reached down and gave her ass a tight squeeze. “I think you were right the first time, it’s definitely a shark.” 

Her eyes narrowed, and she swatted his arm. “Oh my God, Bucky Barnes! You’d better hope that super serum lets you breathe underwater, because we’re about to find out!”

Bucky figured he’d earned the yelling and splashing that followed. Darcy was doing everything possible to try and capsize him without much success. After spending a few minutes fending off her attacks, Bucky simply picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and started for where he could see their beach blanket spread out on the sand. 

“Come on, shark bait, I’m getting waterlogged. Let’s go in.”

“Don’t you dare call me shark bait, and this isn’t over,” Darcy retorted.

“You’ve got a lot of brass for someone who’s being carried into shore upside down,” he said.

There was a bunch of movement that felt like her folding her arms over her chest, and then Darcy replied, “I’m only upside down because I want to be. This situation is totally under my control.”

Bucky stopped walking. “Is it?”

“Yep.”

“You sure about that? What if this shark decides he wants a bite?” He rubbed his cheek against her bare thigh and she gasped. 

“You wouldn’t,” she said.

“I dunno. It’s awfully tempting, and I only had that sandwich earlier. You look a lot better than a sandwich, doll,” he told her, snapping his teeth inches from her skin.

Darcy kicked her legs, giggling while she tried to squirm free. “Nope, nope, nope. No chomping on the girl, you freakishly muscular, geriatric…”

He snapped his teeth again, this time accompanying it with a loud growl. 

She froze, and then broke into loud peals of laughter. “Is that...are you _growling_?”

“Maybe.”

“Bucky, that doesn’t even make sense. Sharks can’t growl. They don’t have vocal chords.”

“How do you know they don’t? You’d never even get close enough to one to find out.”

“Because of Shark Week, duh.”

They were out of the water at this point. He carted her over to the large green and white beach blanket, and set her on her feet. “Alright, Einstein, prove to me that sharks don’t growl. I know you’re dying to do it.”

Darcy hauled the canvas beach tote over, and got them each a towel. Once she’d tied hers around herself sarong-style, she retrieved her phone. “Okay. Prepare to be wrong, dude. There is nothing I don’t know about sharks at this point, and I’m positive that they don’t growl.”

Bucky sat down next to her, scrubbing the towel over his body while she scrolled through the google results. Once the prosthetic was dry, he rolled his shoulder, stretching the arm out so it could run through a calibration sequence. It had become an instinctive reaction to for him to run checks if the cybernetics were submerged in water for any length of time over the years. The process wasn’t exactly quiet, and he looked down to find her watching him intently, phone left forgotten on the blanket as the final sections of plates slid into place, locking down with a series of loud clicks.

“Sorry,” she said, realizing he’d caught her looking. “I just never saw it working before. Not like that, anyway. It’s kind of amazing.” She reached over, taking his hand in hers, and traced one slender fingertip down the center of his metal palm. His fingers jumped reflexively, and Darcy smiled. She slowly trailed it up his arm, ending at the star near his shoulder. “Just between you and me, I find the muscles pretty damn sexy. How does that even work? The metal muscle thing, I mean.”

“There’s uh...there’s more of my arm in there than you’d think. Almost down to the elbow. So they integrated what was left into the mechanics. Muscles, nerves, whatever else, it’s all linked in with with prosthetic using some kind of implants.” He stopped, still staring at her fingers tracing over his arm. “Stark claims that’s what kept the tissue from atrophying.”

“Wow. I figured it was biomechanical, but I had no idea. So, are the metal plates like skin? Can you feel me touching you?”

He licked his lips. “It’s uh...it’s not quite the same. There are sensors under the plates that translate the sensation. Technically, they’re more sensitive than the nerves in my other hand. They have to be. Otherwise I might injure my good hand by passing something hot, or unsafe over to it, but they don’t register pain.”

“So, temperature, pressure, texture?” she asked, brow furrowed.

“More or less.”

She had his hand in both of hers now, and turned it over so it was palm up. “What about this?” Then she bent her head over his hand, pressing her lips to his wrist.

“I feel it.” Bucky’s voice didn’t crack, but it was a close thing.

“Good,” she said sliding their palms together, her skin warm against the metal, and folded her fingers through his. “Hey, look at that. We totally fit.”

“You don’t care that it’s a weapon?” 

His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of hesitation. There wasn’t any. Just warm, honest affection beaming back at him. 

“I’ve used that hand to taze Thor,” Darcy replied, wiggling the fingers that were caught between his. “I also helped take out Dark Elves with it, punched Clint once when he stole a chocolate mousse cake I made for Jane’s birthday out of the communal fridge, accidentally set off one of Tony’s more questionable laser-related inventions and leveled a wall in his lab, and shoplifted a Snickers bar when I was seven. Not only that, but it’s my go to hand for Darcy quality alone time. So it’s hardly innocent.” 

“Darcy quality alone time? Is that what I think it is?” Bucky asked, wondering if he looked as staggered as he felt.

“When you live with a bunch of Avengers, most of whom are nosy, overprotective males, and Wanda, who I swear to God uses mind control to get rid of my dates if she doesn’t like them, you end up with lengthy dry spells. Trust me, it sucks. And I’m not a battery powered kind of girl, if you catch my drift...so...yeah, it’s exactly what you think it is.” She curled her fore and middle finger at him and winked. 

“That’s uh…”

“Way too much information?” Darcy asked. 

“No. Definitely not the words I was looking for,” Bucky replied. 

“Is that good or bad?” 

“How long of a dry spell?”

“Really? That’s what you’re focusing on?” She rolled her eyes, but he figured her smile meant she wasn’t really irritated. “Too long. Long enough to make this a waste of perfectly good interstellar magic, anyway.”

Darcy gestured at the swirling pattern of symbols peeking over the top of her bikini bottoms. Bucky had noticed them when she’d pulled the t-shirt she was wearing over her bathing suit off, but just assumed they were some kind of tattoo. The ink was different from any he’d ever seen before, though. It was nearly colorless, just a slight shade lighter than her skin, and shimmered in the sunlight with her every movement. The symbols were odd too, almost like the ones he’d seen decorating Celtic crosses, but less angular, and with what looked like three flames woven into the central links.

“I thought that was a tattoo,” he said, and she shrugged. 

“Everyone does. Well, not Jane. She has one too. Pretty, isn’t it? You’ve got to hand it to Asgard, they have the coolest medicine ever.”

“Medicine?” Bucky frowned. Was she sick?

“Yep. The preventative kind.” He must have still looked confused, because she took pity on him, and said, “It’s Thor’s world’s answer to birth control, only way better. It prevents pregnancy, disease, you name it, I’m covered. I even had Eir tweak it so I can’t catch a cold, but don’t tell anyone in SHIELD medical about that. They’ll want samples, and tests, and God knows what else.”

If he was staggered before, now Bucky was completely floored. Magical birth control. What a fucking world they lived in now. “Is it permanent?”

“Nope. I can have it reversed anytime. It’s set to dissolve in a year anyway. So I’ll have to visit again to have it renewed when it fades. Since we’re on the subject of dry spells though...what about you? Am I allowed to know how long it’s been?”

The question wasn’t one he’d been expecting, and Bucky wasn’t sure how to answer her. Between his own faulty memories, and the ones HYDRA had implanted, the truth was a little...blurry. Not only that, but he didn’t think some of the recollections he felt were probably true would be something she’d want to hear. They weren’t something he wanted to tell her, either.

It was so much easier to leave out the recollections that made him feel sick, and tell her one that didn’t. He hoped she didn’t notice the careful way it was worded so it wasn’t exactly a lie. “The last time I can remember actually enjoying myself with a woman was when Roosevelt was still president.”

“Shut up, really?”

“Really. I was stationed overseas at the time.”

“Wow. Was she British?”

“No, she was in the Army Nursing Corps. I uh...I met her after Steve rescued my platoon.”

“So, celebratory sex then, huh?” Darcy teased. 

Bucky cleared his throat. “Something like that.”

“Rawr,” she said. “Were you all, ‘Sergeant Barnes, reporting for booty, ma’am’?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her terrible impersonation of him. “Was that supposed to be me?”

“Yes it was, and we both know you loved it,” Darcy replied. “At least it hasn’t been since Brooklyn. I mean, it would just be sad if you did all that serving your country and didn’t have any fun.”

“There wasn’t as much going on in Brooklyn as you think,” he told her. “Most of the girls in my neighborhood were devout Catholics. Talking them into doing more than a little necking was like trying to push a cart sideways.”

“What about the girls who weren’t in your neighborhood?” Darcy asked slyly.

“There might have been a couple,” he answered.

“That was cagey,” she said. “Very cagey, Sergeant Barnes. Why do I feel like you got your uniform issued before getting your v-card punched?”

Shit. “What?”

“Oh my GOD!” Darcy sat up on the blanket, expression gleeful. “I’m right! So, I take it the girls you met while in Basic were a little less Catholic?”

“It was only one girl, and yeah. She was Baptist, I think. We weren’t really talking religion at the time.”

“I bet you weren’t.” She lay back on the blanket, tugging on his hand so had to follow, and turned to face him. “Is it weird that I love hearing about stuff like that? Not about you hooking up with other girls, but what you used to do back in the day. It’s like I’m getting to look into this whole other world that happened before I existed.”

“My age doesn’t bother you?”

“Mmm, yeah. I’m totally grossed out by your senior citizen status, dude. So grossed out, that I practically begged you to kiss me in the middle of the ocean.”

“Practically?” Bucky scratched the back of his head. “I don’t think there was any ‘practically’ about it, sweetheart. Not that I’m complaining.”

“I’m going to let that slide because that was probably your first kiss since the 1940s or whatever, and because I’m way too comfortable right now to kick your ass. Next time you might not be so lucky. Just keep that in mind.” Darcy wriggled contentedly on the blanket, fingers squeezing his.

As she closed her eyes against the bright sun, he was hit by a strong wave a guilt over the things he’d omitted in their conversation. Though omitted made it sound better than it was. He’d lied to her, plain and simple. The thought made his guts twist into knots. There was so much she didn’t know. So much he was afraid for her to know. 

The problem was that Darcy deserved to know it. All of it. If they were going to do this, she needed to go in having all the facts. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something to that effect, when a pair of shadows fell over them.

“Got room for two more?” Steve asked.

Darcy rolled towards where he and Natasha were standing, shading her eyes with her hand. “That’s why I brought the big blanket. There are drinks in the cooler, and extra sunscreen in the… Crap. I knew I forgot something. Give me two seconds, I’ll run back and grab it.”

She started to get to her feet, but Bucky stopped her. “I’ll do it.” He glanced over at Steve while he was speaking, hoping that he was paying attention. He was.

“I’ll go with you,” Steve said immediately. “I left my sketchbook.”

Natasha had to be aware something was up, but just sat down next to Darcy. “We’ll be here. Yell if you need us.”

The moment they were out of earshot, Steve turned and smiled knowingly at him. “So, you and Darcy, huh?”

“I want her to see my file,” Bucky said abruptly, and Steve’s eyebrows shot up.

“Buck…”

“It’s not negotiable.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded slowly. “Okay. You don’t need to ask me, though. Friday can upload it to you anytime.”

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. I want her to see my file. I can’t…” He stopped speaking, lips curving bitterly. “Steve, I need her to see it. She needs to know.”

“Is this about my advice then, Buck? Because I’m far from an expert on these things, but I don’t know if right now is the best time to bring all that up.”

“How long do I wait? A month? Six months? Until I’m so invested in her that it shreds me when she finds out and leaves?”

“It wouldn’t now?” Steve asked shrewdly.

“When did you get so goddamn perceptive about my business?”

“Around the time I watched my best buddy fall for a girl so hard he refused to speak to her to avoid getting hurt. Which is why I find this need to hand your file over to her more than a little worrying. What prompted all this?”

Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face. “I lied to her today. She asked me a question, and I straight up lied to her.”

“About what?”

“Sex.”

Steve opened his mouth, and then closed it again before speaking. “Well, I think everyone is entitled to… I mean… How big of a lie?”

“You remember that nurse? Back when we were setting up the Howling Commandos?”

“Connie?”

“I can’t believe you remember her name and I don’t, but yeah, Connie. Darcy asked when the last time I...you know...and I said it was Connie.”

“I see. So you didn’t tell her about…”

“No.”

“Bucky, I’m all for honesty. You know that I am, but is every detail of your time in with HYDRA really something Darcy needs to know about? I’m sure she’s not offering up her past for you to sift through,” Steve said.

“Her past and my past aren't the same thing,” Bucky argued. “And, anyway, you know Darcy. She doesn’t hide anything. I’m not even sure she can.”

Steve sighed. “She may already know everything. Have you thought about that? Darcy hacks computer systems for a living. She could have pulled your file months ago. It was in the information dump that Natasha did.”

“Not all of it. You know that, and Darcy didn’t even pull the redacted one.”

“And you know this how?” Steve asked.

“Because she’s genuinely surprised when I tell her things. Things she would know if she’d already read my file. She hasn’t seen it.”

“Alright, Buck,” Steve said after a few seconds of silence. “I’ll back you on this if it’s what you really want. I’ve got to tell you something, though. This need to let her see everything? Part of me thinks it’s still you pushing her away. If that’s the case, you need to consider that it may do just the opposite.”

“It’s not that,” Bucky responded, refusing to admit even to himself that in a small way, Steve might be right. Better heartbreak now, than heartbreak later. 

“Either way, I still don’t think it’s gonna scare her off. The lying might make her mad, but I have a feeling that’s where it will end. She might even give you a pass for the lying. You never know with Darcy. She’s protective as hell when it comes to all of us. You know she got right in some guy’s face at a club one night when he put his hands on Natasha? Natasha could have snapped the guy’s neck seventeen different ways, and he wouldn’t even have known what happened, but Darcy got between them and told him to buzz off.”

“I doubt that’s what she said,” Bucky chuckled.

“I might have cleaned it up a little,” Steve said with a smile. “The sentiment remains the same. What I’m saying is that there’s a reason why I think she’s the right girl for you, and it’s not just the fact that she looks like Jane Russell in a bathing suit.”

“I don’t remember saying you could look at my girl, Rogers.”

“She’s your girl now, is she? Funny how that works.”

“Always such a smartass,” Bucky said. “Tell me again why we’re friends?”

“Shared history? Senility? Love of the Dodgers?”

“Those fucking bums. I can’t believe they defected to Los Angeles.”

“It’s a travesty,” Steve replied. “I can still remember the way the grass smelled on Ebbets Field the first time we went to a game.”

“We took the trolley over. What were we? Twelve? Thirteen?” Bucky asked. “Just a couple of kids.”

“Around that,” Steve agreed. “Give her your file, Bucky. I’m here if you need me.”

“I know you are.”

They had arrived back at the campsite, and Bucky realized he’d completely forgotten why he was there.

“Here.” Steve tossed him a bottle of sunscreen that was sitting on the picnic table. “That’s Darcy’s, right?”

He looked at the smooth, green plastic container with a small white sun on it, and their reason for returning flooded back. “Yeah. It’s hers. Don’t forget your sketchbook.”

“Got it,” Steve said, tucking the large pad under his arm. “When are you going to give it to her?”

“Now. As soon as we get back.”

“You sure you don’t want to wait until later? We haven’t even eaten yet.”

“I can’t. If I’m gonna do this, it has to be now.”

“Alright. Well, like I said…”

“You’re here for me. Yeah, I know.”

The scenic path to the beach was completely wasted on Bucky. He was a tangled mess of nerves, and doubt. The minute he got there, he held his hand out to Darcy before he could change his mind. “Take a walk with me?” he asked.

She bounced up right away, towel left behind on the blanket. “Want to look for the horses?”

He’d forgotten all about the wild horses. It was as good an excuse as any. “Sure.”

“Cool.” Darcy slipped her hand into his, and her carefree grin made him feel queasy at the thought of what he was about to do.

“We’ll be back in a bit,” Bucky said. 

Steve flashed him a look of mute sympathy. “See you in a few.”

Darcy swung their hands between them as they walked down the sand. All he could think of was how it might be the last time after she heard what he had to say. He gave them time to leave the rest of the beach goers behind them, before guiding her to the second beach access point, so they could double back to the campground.

“This isn’t about the horses, is it?” she asked.

“No.”

“I could tell when you and Steve got back. Something’s wrong. What is it?”

His chest clenched down tight when he met her worried eyes. “I have to tell you something...show you something too.”

“Show me something? I don’t understand.”

He didn’t answer, just led her around the brightly colored tents lining the walkway until they got back to theirs. Once they were there, Bucky found he didn’t know where to begin. Although, the truth might have been more like he didn’t want to begin.

“Is this about earlier? Did I push too hard with my questions about your arm? If so, I’m sorry about that. I don’t always think before I say stuff, which you probably noticed. I just thought...I mean, you didn’t seem upset, so it felt okay to ask.”

“It wasn’t that,” he said. “It was something I did.”

“Something you did?” She perched on the edge of the picnic table bench, frowning. “Okay. Now I’m confused. I thought we were having a pretty awesome afternoon together. What did you do that required bringing me all the way back here by some circuitous route just so you could tell me about it?”

“I lied, Darcy,” Bucky told her before he could rethink it. “You asked me a question, and I lied to you.”

“Oookay. Is this about the Baptist girl at Basic? Do you have grandkids you’re not telling me about or something?”

“No, I don’t think so. Not that I know of, anyway.” Christ. He could only imagine how HYDRA would use them against him if he did. It didn’t bear thinking about.

“Then what is it? You’re kinda scaring me right now. I can’t remember anything we talked about that would be this big of a deal.”

“When you asked me when the last time I had sex was. It wasn’t when I was stationed overseas.”

Darcy pursed her lips for a moment. “So it’s been more recently?”

“Yeah. I can’t say how recently. My memory isn’t exactly reliable on that score, but there’s been instances since I was captured. I was afraid of what you’d think if you knew the truth. I don’t even like knowing it.”

“I’m not a fan of lying, but Bucky, you’re allowed to say that there are things you don’t want to talk about. You know I’m not going to judge you, right? No matter what the truth is, I won’t be upset with you.”

“What if the truth is that HYDRA sometimes rewarded me for a job well done?” Bucky said, the words leaving a sour taste in his mouth. “Something to make being put in cold storage afterwards a little more palatable? What if I’m not even sure if that’s true, or if that’s something they put in my head to keep me compliant? Or what if... What if I went rogue once or twice, and one of those times they found me in bed with a woman?”

They’d killed her, that poor girl he was taking comfort in. Bucky’s memories of making love to her were fuzzy, but her look of terror, and the blood on her sheets, was crystal clear. He didn’t tell Darcy that. The shocked expression on her face from what he’d already said was hard enough to see with adding that.

He thought he’d blown it. In fact, he was sure of it. She was still staring at him, eyes huge and troubled. So when she stood up so she could gently smoothed her palm down the side of his face until she was cupping his jaw it came as a complete surprise. Bucky leaned into her touch, unable to help himself. Darcy stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him, holding on until he relaxed into her embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You’re not allowed to apologize for that,” she immediately replied. “There’s nothing to apologize for. Fuck them for doing that to you. Anyway, I’m the one who’s sorry. I keep prying into your past, and that’s not okay. Sometimes my mouth forgets to consult my brain, that’s my fault.”

He shook his head. “No. You should know who I was, and what I did. The other day you said the things I did while I was under HYDRA’s control didn’t matter to you, and maybe they don’t, but I still _did_ those things. Wait here.” Bucky went and retrieved his StarkPad from the locked weapons case in his tent, and brought it back. He tapped the screen to access the AI, and said, “Friday, access file Barnes, James Buchanan.”

There was a slight chirping sound, and then Friday replied, “Voice, and retina recognition verified, access granted. I’m retrieving your file Agent Barnes. One moment, please.”

“Holy shit. Bucky,” Darcy said, gaze flicking back and forth from him to the information appearing on the screen, “are you really doing this?”

Bucky took her hand, placing the notebook in it. “Yes.”

“What are you going to do while I’m reading?”

“I’m going to take a walk. You might be a while.”

“I’m assuming this is what the stealth meeting with Steve was about earlier. He knows you were going to do this?” she asked.

“He knows,” Bucky said.

“So that means Natasha knows too.”

“It’s a good bet that she does, yeah.”

Darcy looked down at the StarkPad in her hand, and then back up at him. “Can you do me a favor? Take your phone with you? I don’t want you to be wandering around out there without any way to contact us. Not that I think anything is going to happen, but it’s better to be safe, right?”

Her frank concern was almost painful to take considering what she was about to find out about him. “I’ll bring it.”

“Okay.” She let out a long, slow breath. “I’ll be in my tent. Reading. Not that it’s going to change my mind. I’m letting you know that right now. No matter what it says here…” Darcy held up the notebook. “...I’m still going to want to get into your tac gear, and do totally inappropriate things to you. I can promise you that.”

Bucky wished he could believe that. He really did. It was all he could do to nod in reply before turning his back on her to make his way out of camp using the path they’d come in on. He got his phone like she asked, ignoring the questioning glances from Steve and Natasha. For a moment he thought Natasha was going to get up and follow him, but Steve dropped an arm around her shoulders, and she stayed put.

Hours passed as Bucky walked along the seemingly endless stretch of beach. At one point he caught a glimpse of the horses off behind a clump of plants, and stood watching them for a while. They were grazing quietly on a patch of scrub grass in late afternoon light, muscles twitching here and there under their shaggy coats as if they were running just beneath the calm surface, never truly still even when they weren't moving. It was a feeling Bucky knew all too well. Maybe more so than ever at the moment.

His phone alerted a little while later. The message was from Steve, letting him know they were going to eat. He sent a quick reply, and slid the phone back into the pocket. It was well past dark by the time Bucky decided to walk back. There was a dark blot on top of the picnic table, and as he got closer Natasha unfolded herself from where she’d been sitting on it. 

“Darcy went to bed a little while ago,” she told him as he got closer.

Bucky didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t help himself. “Did she say anything?”

“Not really. It seemed like she had a lot on her mind. What about you? You okay?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re probably feeling pretty exposed right now,” she said. “I know I would be. I was, in fact.”

“How much does Steve know? About you?”

“Everything. It was part of the deal. After the shakedown last year, we don’t have room for secrets. It was freeing. And terrifying.” Natasha smiled faintly. “I was lucky. He doesn’t dwell on my past, just his own.”

He looked over at Darcy’s tent. “That sounds like Steve.”

“It sounds like both of them,” she replied. “Although I don’t believe Darcy dwells on anything really. From what I know of her, she prefers living in the moment to living in the past. Lately all those moments seem to include you. I wouldn’t underestimate that.”

“You and Steve say a lot of that. Not to underestimate her. What if you’re both overestimating me?”

“I trust Steve’s judgement. Not only that, but I might be the only person who understands where you’re coming from. You’ve got a balance in your ledger to answer for, and I’ve got one too. It all comes down to not letting that keep you from living. You take care of it, and while you’re taking care of it, you move on. I think Darcy is worth moving on for, just like Steve is.”

“Is that official advice from the Black Widow?”

“No. That’s official advice from a friend.” She stretched, hands clasped together above her head. “I’m turning in. You should too. Steve already has plans to drag us all up to the lighthouse first thing tomorrow. Some well-meaning local gave him a map before I could intervene.”

Natasha didn’t wait to see if he listened. Bucky watched her go, disappearing into the shadows around the tent she shared with Steve. Silence descended after she’d left, and he decided to take her advice...at least on going to bed. He was laying there, staring up at the pinnacle where the tent poles met, when the rustle of someone leaving their tent cut through the quiet. Moments later there was more rustling, and the sound of a zipper being eased open and closed again. Bucky had barely pushed up onto his elbows when a warm, solid weight landed in his lap as Darcy straddled him.

She didn’t say a word, just took his face in both hands and kissed him. He could taste the mint of her toothpaste, sweet and sharp, and something else that felt a lot like absolution. It quickly went from gentle to desperate, their breath coming shallow and quick. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” she begged. “I just...I want to stay with you.”

He laughed, a hoarse and broken thing full of relief. “Yeah. Yes. Stay.”

“Let me in,” she murmured, tugging on the top of his sleeping bag.

He caught the tab in the hand he wasn’t using to pull her face back down to his, and lowered it so she could slip inside. Her smooth, bare legs tangled with his as Bucky flipped them so she was beneath him. No small feat in a sleeping bag, but he somehow managed it. 

“You read it?” he asked. “Everything?”’

“All of it.” Darcy’s fingers combed through his hair, tucking it behind his ears. “That picture of you. The one in cryo? I wanted to kill them when I saw it. I wanted every single one of them dead. I swear to God, I will knit you so many fucking scarves. You will never be cold again. I promise.”

“You knit?”

“I’ll learn. Got a favorite color?”

He tried to picture her with a ball of yarn and a set of knitting needles clacking away. Probably swearing her head off every time she made a mistake, and watching some ridiculous cartoon like that thing with the stretchy dog she and Jane were always quoting. The result made him smile. “Red.”

“Got it. I’ll make you ten thousand scarves in every shade of red I can find. Listen, I’m going to kiss you again, okay? Because you’re here, and you’re not frozen, and I’m just very, very good with that right now.”

She made good on her statement before he could even respond. He kissed her back with an urgency that built with every second. It was consuming. Bucky found himself not so much letting his guard down as dropping it completely. It was the first time in too many years that he didn’t have half his attention focused on potential threats. Darcy had it all, and he couldn’t even bring himself to care that was the case.

Her hands roved over his arms and chest restlessly, finally coming to rest between his shoulder blades, where Bucky could feel the light pressure of them as she pulled him closer. “I’m glad you found your way home,” she whispered against his mouth.

“Me too, doll,” he said, working his way down the sweet, warm skin of her neck with a series of nipping kisses. “Me too.”

Darcy gasped, hips rolling up to meet his. “We have to be so quiet. I’m really not good at that.”

“Want me to stop?” Bucky lifted his head away from her collarbone, waiting for an answer. 

“No. I want to know what all that talk about fooling around was about,” she replied.

He pushed up higher on his arms so he could look down at her. “Do you?”

“Yep. But I’m not kidding about the not being quiet thing. Which is why I think we should probably wait until New Orleans before more than just fooling around happens. At least there we’ll have a hotel room. With actual walls to muffle the sound of me screaming your name.”

“Jesus, Darcy. Do you have any idea what it does to me when you say stuff like that?”

“Um, makes you frustrated that we don’t have a hotel room right now?” she offered. “Because I know I am.”

“That’s part of it,” Bucky said.

“Just part, huh? What’s the other part?” As she was speaking, Darcy stealthily slid her hand between them. The movement was so quick that Bucky’s preoccupied brain didn’t even catch up with it until she palmed him through his boxer briefs. “Aha. I think I just found it,” Darcy said.

His eyes shut as her fingers closed around him through the fabric. He’d been more than half-hard for the past ten minutes, and with her hand on him, things were rapidly coming to a head so to speak.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed, as she slipped her hand inside, and gave him a firm stroke. He couldn’t help but push forward into the circle of her fingers, feeling his foreskin start to retract as they moved down his length and back up. Her thumb swiped over the exposed tip, fingers squeezing in rhythm with the movement of her hand, and his hips rocked forward again. 

“God, you’re pretty. Even in the dark.”

“ _I’m_ pretty?” He bent his head low over hers, lips grazing her forehead. 

“Mmmm, you are,” Darcy said, twisting her wrist on the upstroke and making him hiss. 

“I want you,” he said. “Want to fuck you. Want you under me just like this with your hair spread out around your face, and your gorgeous legs wrapped around me so I can feel them shaking when you come.”

She was right about it being dark, but despite the minimal light coming through the mesh windows of the tent, he was close enough to see her pupils dilate. Her hand tightened around him, and he groaned as he thrust hard into her fingers. 

“You’re the one who’s shaking.” Darcy’s free hand trailed up his right arm, and he was suddenly aware that he was trembling all over. “You know what I think?” she said softly. “I think you’re already close.” 

Her thumb rolled over the tip of his cock again, smearing precome across the head, and the air escaped Bucky’s lungs in a shuddering breath. 

“Darce,” he panted. 

“I know.” She flattened her palm on the back of his neck, using the leverage to lean up and kiss him. 

Her tongue swept into his mouth, coaxing his into hers so she could suck on it, and he was gone. His hips jerked, pushing himself into her hand, once, twice, three more times, before his orgasm eclipsed everything else in a bright, hot rush of feeling. 

It had all happened embarrassingly quick, and Bucky probably would have cared more about that if it hadn’t felt so damn good. Besides, Darcy’s mouth was still on his, meaning he had more important things to concentrate on. Her hand slowed and stilled. Then she pulled it away, wiping it on her t-shirt, before carefully catching the hem in her fingers and flipping it up to cover the mess he’d made so she could tug the whole thing over her head and toss it away. 

“You’re haven’t stopped shaking,” she said.

“No?”

“Everything but this arm.” Her fingers skimmed along the plates on the prosthetic. 

“I think it’s my turn to make you shake,” he told her, rolling so he was lying on his left side facing her.

“I think you’re right. So...what’s stopping you?”

Her chin tilted up in question, and Bucky took the opportunity to mouth the tender spot just under her jaw. “Nothing.” 

“Awesome.”

He could feel her shifting around in an effort to strip off her underwear, and he reached down to stop her. “Leave them.”

“Leave them?”

“That’s what I said.”

She looked at him intently for a few seconds, and then said, “Is this a thing? Like my yellow heels staying on?”

His lips quirked up into a grin. “Possibly.”

“Bucky Barnes, are you kind of a little bit kinky?”

“You’ll have to tell me,” he replied. “Which fingers did you say you use? These two?”

He caught her hand in his, curling all her fingers over but the index and middle one. Darcy’s eyes widened as he drew their joined hands down her ribcage and over her stomach.

“Yeah. Those two. Holy shit.” 

Her chest hitched while Bucky ducked his head to take a nipple in his mouth. At the same time he hooked his fingers in the fabric of her panties, pulling it over and guiding her hand down between her legs.

“Remember on the ferry when I said I was a quick study?”

“Yes,” she said, sucking in a sharp breath as he moved to the other breast. 

“Good. So, teach me.”

“I can do that.” Darcy slid her hand down further, and he followed with his own, feeling slick wetness and satiny skin. Then she made a small, tight circle just above her clit. “Like this.”

Bucky let go of her hand so he wasn’t in her way. “Don’t stop,” he said.

Darcy laughed breathlessly, body arching as her fingers continued to work. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

A few more seconds passed, and then Bucky began to take over. He started by moving in tandem with her own fingertips, and then slipped beneath them so hers were on top. 

“God...just like that,” she moaned, hips falling into a steady rhythm. “I thought you’d be good at this.”

“You thought about this?”

“Uhuh. Back in New York. I saw you cleaning a gun once, and I thought that your fingers had serious potential. Oh my God, whatever it was you just did...do it again.” 

“This?” He repeated the motion, tracing one finger between her folds, and bringing it back up to rub over her clit again.

“That. _Fuck_. I think maybe if you let me…” Darcy brought her own hand back into play, increasing the pace he’d set. “You do the other thing.”

Bucky let her, switching to the thing he’d done that she liked. Within seconds he could feel small tremors moving through her body, as her chest rose and fell with sharp, staccato breaths. 

“Best co-pilot ever,” she said, words punctuated by shaky gasps

“You gonna come for me, doll?”

“Bucky…”

His name came out on a whimper, and he hovered over her, mouth just above hers. “Love that. You calling my name. Next time it’ll be with my head buried between your thighs.”

She clutched his arm with her free hand, head thrown back against his pillow. Her gasps had turned to moans which he helped to muffle by covering her lips with his own. The moment he kissed her, Darcy’s body bowed up, pressing tight into his as she came.

Afterwards he shifted them both so she was cuddled up on his chest with his arms wrapped around her. Darcy tucked her head under his chin, little shivers running through her body as he used one hand to absently trace patterns over her lower back. The space inside the tent was filled with a lulling calm, and the same thought kept moving to the forefront in his mind.

He had all night with her.

Maybe he deserved it, and maybe he didn’t. But Bucky had ceased to care. She was there, and that was all that mattered.


	11. Less Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asgardian alcohol, Frisbee super-soldier style, and a truly terrible pick-up line that kinda sorta works

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second to last chapter. I think. Although usually when I say that, five more chapters happen...so we'll see. But as of right now, there's this one, the next one, and then an epilogue of sorts. However, one thing is for sure, the next chapter is New Orleans, and we all know what is going down in New Orleans. ;D
> 
> Anyone who correctly guesses the identity of Nat's friend in Louisiana gets three million points. Just saying.
> 
> ****************************************************

It was still dark when Darcy woke up. Although waking up was kind of a misnomer, because she always felt like sleeping with someone for the first time was less sleeping and more being hyper-aware of them all night long. Every time Bucky moved, she moved, limbs sliding together, and bodies reorienting around each other. More times than she could count, she felt the gentle press of his lips on her shoulder, or prickle of stubble as his face brushed her neck. 

When she finally did fully surface from dozing, it was to Bucky’s body curved behind her. His chest was still rising in the slow, measured breaths of sleep. One arm was thrown around her waist, hand resting on her ribcage under the t-shirt he’d given her. At some point during the night it had gotten pretty chilly, and he’d found an extra blanket from somewhere so he could pull it over both of them. 

They were anything but chilly now. Though the air outside the blanket and sleeping bag felt cool, beneath them was blazing. Darcy had often considered Bucky and Steve to be furnaces masquerading as people. She assumed it was a serum thing. They both just ran hot. Normally it wasn’t a big deal, but trapped under layers of blankets with a man putting off heat like an oven was getting a little suffocating. 

She slid an arm free, and began carefully easing the blanket off them in an effort to not wake him up. Her attempt to be sneaky about it was a waste. Bucky went from asleep to alert in seconds, body tensing against her.

“It’s just me,” Darcy said softly.

He relaxed immediately, the arm around her waist pulling her back into his embrace. “Mmmm. Yes it is. Morning, gorgeous.”

“How do you know it’s morning? It’s still dark out.”

“Lots of practice. You sleep alright?”

She smiled. “No. Did you?”

“No, and I’d do it again,” Bucky said. “Tonight if you’ll let me.”

“Oooh, are you going to sneak into my tent this time?” Darcy asked.

“That what you want?”

“Really?” She half turned so she could look at him over her shoulder. “You’re not sure if I’d want you to sleep over with me again? Let’s just take a minute to remember the insane orgasm situation last night, because I’m not sure if you know this, but I’m still having afterglow. You can show up in my sleeping bag anytime, Bucky Barnes. Seriously.”

He made a contented rumble, and kissed her temple. “Invitation accepted, then, doll.”

“You know if anyone else called me that but you, I’d probably hate it. How do you get away with it?”

“I am possessed of a certain debonair charm, that’s how.”

Darcy laughed. “Oh, is that what it is? I couldn’t tell.”

“You might want to watch it with the sarcasm, Lewis. You’re in a fairly compromising position at the moment.”

“What? Really? Should I go?” She started to sit up, and he hauled her back down.

A small wrestling match ensued that ended with her sitting on top of him, both his wrists pinned down in her hands. Darcy knew he was letting her hold him down, and that made it so much better. 

“What are the odds on me talking you out of my shirt?” Bucky inquired, eyes sweeping over her appreciatively. “Not that I mind you wearing it, but it’s blocking a perfectly good view.”

“What view? It’s still dark.”

“Maybe for your eyes,” he responded. 

She snorted. “Fine. How about this. You sneak down to the showers with me, and I’ll take off whatever you want.”

“It thought we were waiting until New Orleans,” Bucky said. 

“To shower? Gross. That’s like...four days away.” He rolled his eyes, and she laughed. “Here’s the thing. I’m thinking the showers are way over on the far side of the camp where there are no tents, it’s too early for anyone else to be up, and while last night was very, very nice…”

“Just nice?”

“Don’t interrupt.”

“Who’s interrupting? Not me. Go on.”

“Thank you, I will. While last night was double very nice, I am having an extremely hard time not sexing you up. You’re having a hard time too,” Darcy surmised, shifting on his lap and making him groan.

Bucky rubbed his hands over his face. “You aren’t really helping matters there, cupcake.”

“Cupcake?” She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Sugar?” he replied.

Darcy shook her head. “Stick with doll. It goes with your debonair charm.”

“Suggestion noted. You’ll have to get off me, though. Unless you want to eighty-six the shower idea and test your ability to keep quiet instead.”

“Fine, but just know this is harder for me than it is for you. I’ll meet you over there. I just need to get my stuff.”

He made a sound that was two parts frustration and one part acquiescence. Darcy took it as him agreeing, and left for her own tent. Once she was there, it took her a little bit locate her lantern, and then a couple minutes more to get everything she needed stuffed into a backpack, and throw a pair of shorts on. This meant Bucky beat her down to the showers. When Darcy got there, she found him standing outside with his own bag clutched in one hand, and a towel over his shoulder, waiting. 

“Occupied?” she asked, dropping her backpack onto the ground next to her.

He glanced over at her, inscrutable expression on his face, and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “You could say that.”

She was just about to suggest they go try the showers at the other end of the campground when she heard a long, low moan followed by a very male growl. Her mouth dropped open, and she looked up at the entrance to the shower in disbelief. Another moan broke through the still, early morning air. Seconds later they could both clearly hear the sounds of two people getting it on in a way that was far too energetic for six fucking am.

“Is that…?” Darcy asked, gesturing at the entrance while keeping her eyes fixed anywhere else. Not that she could have seen anything through the concrete walls, but still.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied. 

Another moan floated out on the steam, this time Steve’s, coupled by a string of completely filthy cursing that was strongly reminiscent of the time Darcy had walked in him with Natasha in the kitchen.

She covered her mouth with her hands, trying to contain her laughter. “Oh my God. Not again.” Peeking over at Bucky, she found him looking back at her, lips twitching up into a grin.

“Like goddamn rabbits,” he said.

“Maybe we should get out of here before this gets weirdly voyeuristic,” Darcy suggested. “Or even more weirdly voyeuristic, since I think we’ve already been standing here for way too long.”

“Lead the way, doll.” Bucky slung his bag over his shoulder.

They started walking, no real destination in mind, but somehow they ended up on a pathway that cut through the dunes. The only sound was the wind through the seagrasses, and the sand shone like silver between the washed out plants. 

“You know if they start betting on who took Steve’s virginity again at work, we’ll totally clean house,” she said.

“What, you think Natasha…? Nah.”

He sounded incredibly certain. Darcy leaned into him, nudging him with her shoulder. “If not Nat, then who? You know, don’t you?”

“I don’t know details, but I know who and when,” Bucky said. “Steve’s not a kiss and tell kind of guy, and the girl… Well, let’s just say she was special. I only got it out of him because I know him well enough to have guessed what happened when I saw him the next morning. She walked into the mess five minutes after him, and Steve’s face was enough to give him away.”

The mess? Darcy’s forehead smoothed out as the dots connected. Whoa...if it was who she thought it was, this might be the most historically awesome loss of virginity ever. “Please say it was Peggy Carter. I need for that to be true.”

“Now that would be telling,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, but I’m right, aren't I. Steve and Peggy. That’s probably the sweetest, most perfect thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You didn’t hear it. Or at least you didn’t hear it from me.”

“Hear what? I don’t remember hearing anything,” Darcy replied, and he grinned.

“Exactly. So this walk...got any plans for where we end up?”

“None.”

“Good. I've got an idea of what we can do.”

Bucky took her hand, steering her down a set of wooden steps that led out to the beach. When they got there, he spread his towel out on the sand, and sat on it, patting the spot in front of him. She joined him, back resting against his chest, and his arms around her. 

“Now what?” Darcy asked.

“Now we watch.”

“Okay. I can do that. Does watching come complete with something to drink?”

She could feel him chuckle as well as hear it. “Yeah, I could make that happen.” He removed one arm from her to rummage through his bag for a moment, and handed her the flask they’d shared back in Pennsylvania. “Don’t drink it yet,” Bucky said. “I’m not done.”

A few more seconds of rummaging happened, and he produced an unopened bottle of orange juice from his bag as well. He cracked the top and took a long sip. Then he poured a healthy amount of what was in the flask into the juice.

“I hope you’re not putting whisky in orange juice.” Darcy made a face. “Because that’s just a waste of perfectly good whisky that I could be conveying straight to my mouth without a middleman.”

“Ran out,” he replied. “Some dame drank most of it a few days ago.”

“So what’s in here?” she asked, tapping the bottle.

“Something else.”

“That’s not vague and unhelpful or anything.”

“You could just take a sip and find out,” Bucky said.

Darcy eyed the bottle for a moment before bringing it to her lips. The tart, citrus flavor rolled over her tongue, and then… “Did you just make me a screwdriver for breakfast?”

“I made both of us a screwdriver for breakfast,” he said, taking the bottle from her so he could drink some.

“Just how much alcohol did you bring along with you?”

“Only what we drank the other night. This was a gift from Natasha.”

She grinned. “A gift that you swiped without her knowing it?”

“Possibly.” He looked up and gestured at the horizon, where a pale light was creeping up between the sky and the water. “Almost time.”

The sky continued to brighten, light changing from pale yellow to brilliant flame orange as it licked out across the water. A breeze blew in from the ocean, and Darcy shivered with a cold chill, goosebumps standing up on her arms.

“Where’s your towel?” Bucky asked.

“Top of my bag.” She heard him digging around in her backpack, and then he draped her towel around both of them, pulling the ends together in front of her. It enclosed them in a small cocoon of warmth. Darcy relaxed, letting her head drop back on his shoulder. “Keep doing stuff like that, and you are totally going to get in my pants.”

It was impossible to miss the smile in his voice when he spoke. “Oh yeah? I’ll have to keep that in mind.” 

“Awesome,” she replied, snuggling into him.

Small shore birds ran along the edge of the waves in the growing light, darting away when they rolled onto the sand. The wispy clouds had begun to turn pink and gold, faint blue sky appearing between them. Darcy was just about to point out a ghost crab scuttling around nearby when she heard muffled hoofbeats and splashing. From around a bend where the dunes obscured the shoreline, a herd of wild ponies came galloping down the beach. 

They thundered by, tossing their heads. Kicking up sand and water in their wake. Here and there among the adults were half-grown foals cantering playfully. The whole experience felt almost otherworldly in the early morning light, and Darcy held her breath, unwilling to break the spell until the horses had disappeared behind the dunes. 

“Did you know they would do that?” she asked Bucky, and felt him shake his head.

“No clue. I saw them yesterday up by the pens, but it was nothing like this.”

“You mean yesterday when you left me alone with your file for five hours?”

He shifted, and she felt his warm breath against her ear. “I wanted to give you time to think things over.”

“There was nothing to think over,” Darcy said. “I told you that in Virginia.”

“I know you did, but you didn’t have the full picture in Virginia.”

She twisted around in his arms to see him. “I like this picture. This guy. Part oldschool Bucky, and part modern Agent Barnes. I like him a lot. Even when he’s being a hermit.”

Bucky laughed. “I think my hermit days might be over.”

“You don’t have to give it up entirely. We could build blanket forts and stuff. Hide from everyone else, and make out. Speaking of making out, I know I haven’t brushed my teeth yet, but I was wondering if maybe you’d overlook that in light of our germ destroying vodka and orange juice breakfast.”

“You kidding me? I would have overlooked that before the vodka. C’mere, Lewis. I got stuff I want to do to you.” 

He helped her finagle herself around until she was straddling him with Darcy giggling the whole time. “Hey,” she said, bumping the tip of his nose with hers.

“Hey yourself.” Bucky’s lips curved up as he looked at her lit up by the golden light reflected by the water. “You’ve got a halo.”

“Really?”

He reached up with his left hand to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. It suits you.”

“I know a fucktuplet of people who would totally disagree with you on that. We work with most of them.”

“They’re idiots.”

“Or you’re the exception to the rule.”

“Maybe I have a good reason for that, because all I see right now is an angel.”

Darcy ducked her head, laughing. “Oh my God. Did that line work in the forties?”

“Sometimes.” He leaned back so he could catch her eye. “Is it working now?”

“Not at all, but I’m still totally going to kiss you.”

“So what you’re saying is that it worked.”

“ _You_ worked. Just you being you,” she said. “Which I have a serious thing for, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I noticed. Took me a while, but I noticed,” he replied, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip.

It was so quiet she could hear the tiny movements of the plates shifting in his wrist and fingers as he brought his hand to her face. She turned into his palm, pressing a kiss to the center, and he exhaled softly. 

“Can I ask you something? Back in New York I got the impression that you didn’t like me very much,” she said, and Bucky winced. “What changed?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Darcy glanced down at at him beneath her, letting her eyes slowly travel back up. “Are you sure? Because I couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. The truth is that I was stupid over you practically from the first time we met, and I was too thick in the head know how to handle it.”

“Really?” She drew back so she could look at him. “How stupid?”

“Stupid enough. What about you?”

“Which one? Was I stupid over you? Or when did I _get_ stupid over you?”

“I think you just answered the first question with the second,” he said. 

“Not exactly. Anyway, it’s complicated. The first time Steve brought you around I thought you were really hot...but broken. I would see you around in the halls or the common areas, and just want to protect you from the world.”

“You wanted to protect me?”

“I know, it sounds dumb, because physically you are definitely capable of protecting yourself much better than I could,” Darcy said. “But you seemed so lost.”

“I was,” he replied.

“And now?”

“I’m less lost.”

“Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

“I think the answer to your question is that the possibility of me being stupid over you was there all along, but I was trying really hard to ignore it, because I thought there was no point. But that’s kind of changed, hasn’t it?”

Wind gusted around them, rustling through the sea oats on the dunes. He took a measured breath, in and out, before speaking again. “It has for me. I still can’t believe it has for you. Or why. I don’t understand what I’m offering you that you would want.”

Darcy smiled. “That’s easy. Ever look at someone and see all the things you could do with them? I don’t mean big things. Little ones. Like drying dishes, or curling up under a blanket and watching TV. Just dumb stuff, but because it’s them, it makes all the dumb stuff better? The ordinary stops being ordinary simply due to them being there. Well, I think you’d make my dumb stuff better. I think you’d make the important stuff better too.”

Bucky made an inarticulate, half-choked sound, and then he surged up, lips meeting hers fiercely. It was a little intense, and more than a little rough, but what the kiss lacked up in finesse it made up for in passion. Darcy found herself lifting up on her knees, hands cradling the back of his head so she could deepen the angle. Her body lit up with thrills, traveling all over her skin in an exhilarating rush. 

She rocked her hips, trying for a little friction, and he caught her around the waist, pulling her down hard to give her what she wanted. For a few minutes Darcy let herself get lost in it, ignoring everything else but the feel of his lips and body where they were touching hers. 

Eventually Darcy’s higher thinking finally decided to show up and remind her that they were on a public beach where anyone could stumble on them at any time. “I kind of hate Steve and Natasha right now,” she mumbled as she came to a standstill on top of Bucky and dropped a butterfly light kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead into hers. “That makes two of us.”

She sighed. “Four days.”

“Unless we figure something else out, but I was thinking…” Bucky tilted his head back, looking up at her with his teeth scraping over his bottom lip in a hesitant gesture that was quickly becoming Darcy’s favorite. “When we get to New Orleans, I’d like to take you out.”

“Bucky, we’re on a road trip. We’re always out,” she said.

“No, really take you out. A date. We’ll go somewhere nice. I’ll pay, get your seat for you, the whole nine.”

“I didn’t really bring any of my ‘somewhere nice’ clothes.”

“Neither did I, but I’m pretty sure they have stores in Louisiana, and it’s about time I actually used the pay SHIELD keeps dumping in my account every other week,” he replied. “What do you say? Want to go out with me in New Orleans, doll?”

His hopeful, boyish expression melted her heart. “Did any girl ever say no to you?”

“What do you think?” he asked, adding raised eyebrows to his lopsided grin.

“Not if you looked at them like that, they didn’t.”

“It’s a date then?”

“It’s a date. Wanna kiss me again to seal the deal?”

He did, arms wound tightly around her, and mouth constantly slipping into a smile. They both ended up laughing, tipping over backwards while she tried valiantly to keep his head elevated and out of the sand with her hands. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, eyes moving back and forth to where her arms held him trapped.

“Keeping your hair from getting sandy.”

“Is what you’re doing helping?”

Darcy shook her head. “Probably not. I refuse to give up, though.”

“You’re a stubborn girl, Darcy Lewis,” Bucky said.

“Yes I am. It’s my best and worst quality.”

“Steve’s too.” Bucky sat up, and she relaxed, letting her hands drift down to his shoulders. “Natasha thinks the two of you are a lot alike.”

“What, me and Steve? Really?” Darcy blinked in surprise. “I don’t see it, but okay. Speaking of the Tactical Maneuver Twins, do you think they’re done in the showers yet?” she asked.

“Hopefully. Want to go see?”

“What I want is a shower and breakfast. In that order. So yeah. Let’s see if they’re out.”

They were. Darcy got her shower, and Bucky got his. Although she felt like the whole separate shower stalls thing was cosmically unfair. One aspect of being split up was sort of adorable, though. Bucky may have been over on the guy’s side of the building, but she could still hear him whistling. The sound was so over the top cheerful that made her smile the entire time she was rinsing shampoo out of her hair. 

Afterwards they all ate together. Darcy asked Steve and Natasha how the aquatic tactical maneuver practice had gone earlier, and Steve retaliated by trying to steal a slice of bacon off her plate. Bucky’s left hand immediately shot out, smacking Steve’s away in a move that appeared practiced.

“Ow! God _damn_ it, Buck!” Steve said, shaking his hand. “That stings!”

“Serves you right,” he replied. “What kinda mannerless chump snatches food off a girl’s plate?”

Natasha smiled from behind her coffee mug. “Clint is in for a rude awakening when we get back.”

Darcy just picked up the piece of bacon Steve had been trying to abscond with, and gave it to Bucky. He shot Steve a gleeful look, biting into it triumphantly. 

“It’s like eating breakfast in a frat house,” Nat said. 

“Or the zoo,” Darcy added. 

“The younger generation has no respect for their elders,” Steve said. “Right, Bucky?”

“Don’t drag me into this, Rogers. I’m trying to rob the cradle here, and you aren’t helping my case any.”

“Trying?” Natasha arched an elegant brow at Bucky. “That’s interesting. I thought contents of the cradle spent the night in your tent. I must be mistaken.”

“The contents of the cradle is right here. Wait. _Are_ right here? I feel like that whole statement was a tragedy of massive grammatical proportions but whatever. We’re just going to ignore that,” Darcy said. “The point is that I am right here. Right now. Fully cognizant of the fact that you are talking about me, and whether or not I spent the night in Bucky’s tent. For the record, my whereabouts last evening are classified.”

Nat didn’t say anything else, but Darcy had a feeling that wasn’t the end of it. They spent the morning hitting the spots on Steve’s map. First the lighthouse, and then Springer’s Point Nature Preserve where it was said that Blackbeard used to anchor his ship. 

The nature preserve was gorgeous, full of live oaks, and sea plum. They followed a small path through to trees to find a perfect stretch of sand with no one around for what seemed like miles. The decision to spend the afternoon there was an easy one. Steve and Bucky went back for the cooler and gear, while Natasha and Darcy chose a spot down near the surf to put it. The empty beach meant that the boys could cut loose a little, and Darcy ended up sitting on the blanket with Natasha, watching the two super soldiers whipping a small metal disc back and forth at each other from an impossible distance. 

“Where did they get an Avenger’s proof frisbee?” she asked Nat, who was leaning back on her elbows to soak in more of the sun.

“Tony made it for Steve for Christmas. It’s a miniature version of his shield.”

Darcy sat up, shading her eyes to get a better view. “It’s vibranium?”

“They couldn’t throw it like that if it wasn’t.”

She watched it soar through the air, surface glinting blindingly on every rotation. Bucky jogged backwards a few steps so he could snag it out of midair, and fire it at Steve.

“How’s Jane?” Natasha asked.

Darcy shrugged. “Incommunicado. You know how it is when Thor takes her to Asgard. They go off the grid. I could ask Heimdall to put me through collect, but I’d probably be interrupting some serious Thunder God and astrophysicist sexytimes. She’ll text me when she gets back.”

“So...what will you tell her about Bucky? Unless I’m wrong, and I’m never wrong, you were in his tent last night. Clearly things are going well despite his attempts to sabotage himself.”

“Let’s just say I’ll tell Jane that Bucky’s skillset is definitely not limited to deadly weaponry and icy detachment, as I previously thought,” Darcy replied.

“I take it last night went well despite his insistence on turning his file over.”

“Last night went very well, thank you. Not as well as your shower went this morning, though.”

“No?” Natasha tipped her sunglasses so she could look at Darcy over the rims. “Nylon walls an issue?” 

“Exactly. How are you and Steve managing? I mean, other than the obvious, which I think I’m permanently scarred over.”

“You’re asking me how I manage to be stealthy?”

Natasha’s expression made Darcy laugh. “Okay. Nevermind. It was a dumb question.”

“You’ll figure it out. Either that, or there’s always New Orleans. You know what they say about good things coming to those who wait.” She winked. “Anyway, I’ve been talking to an old friend of mine, and it looks like we won’t need our hotel reservations after all.”

“Not another campground,” Darcy said, sitting up in alarm.

“Oh God no. He’s offered to let us stay in his house,” Nat said.

“Wait. We’re staying with someone else?”

“I never said he’d be there. He has a club in the Marigny, and prefers to live above it for his own reasons.” 

“Will we be meeting this elusive friend of yours?” Darcy asked.

“Possibly.”

“Does he have a name?”

“He does.”

Darcy waited a few seconds, but Natasha didn’t elaborate. Typical. “Okay, so we’re staying in a house. I can handle that.”

“I thought you’d appreciate it. Especially since Steve and I will be across the courtyard from you and Bucky,” Natasha told her.

“Wow. How big is this house?”

“Big enough that noise shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You know, Natasha, there are times when I strongly suspect that I love you. Even though you scare me shitless sometimes.”

“I have my moments.” Nat was silent for a moment just watching Steve and Bucky, and then she said, “They seem entirely too absorbed in their little game of catch, don’t they?”

Steve jumped up in the air, doing some sort of ridiculous parkour move before hurling the metal disc towards Bucky. Bucky caught it one-handed, and Darcy was too far away to see if he rolled his eyes, but that didn’t change the fact that she knew he had. 

“They do,” Darcy agreed. 

“Want to conduct a little scientific experiment with me?”

“I do miss doing science.”

“Well then,” Natasha said, moving so she was kneeling in front of the cooler, “shall we begin, Doctor Lewis?”

Darcy joined her, and waved graciously at the catch on the front of the container. “By all means, Doctor Romanoff, you do the honors.”

“Thank you, I will.” 

Nat snapped the top on the cooler up, and began handing the contents to Darcy, who set them out in a neat line in the blanket. They hadn’t even gotten to the sandwiches when when something went whizzing by in front of them, hitting the ground, and skidding to a halt a few feet away.

“I believe we’re garnering some results, Doctor Romanoff,” Darcy said. She pointed to the silver disk sticking out of the sand, and then to where Steve and Bucky were rapidly making their way over to the blanket.

“Just as I suspected. The subjects are heavily food motivated.”

“It’s practically Pavlovian,” Darcy replied.

“Do you want pickles?” Natasha broke character, holding up the jar.

“Yep. Could you pass me one of those Cokes?”

Just as Darcy was about to pop the top on the Coke, Bucky flopped down next to her. He somehow managed to remove the drink from her hand, catch her around the waist, and tug her onto the blanket with him all in one smooth movement. 

“I’m trying to make my lunch, you metal-armed octopus,” she complained.

“Metal-armed shark,” he corrected. “We decided this yesterday.”

“Sharks have fins,” Darcy said, pushing on his chest in an attempt to get back to her food. 

“You also think they don’t growl.”

“They don’t.”

“Hey, Stevie, do sharks growl?” Bucky asked as Steve put the frisbee away in Nat’s tote bag.

“They don’t have vocal chords,” Steve replied.

Bucky shook his head. “Is this common knowledge now? Everyone knows that sharks don’t growl?”

“Shark Week, Buck. It’s a thing.”

Darcy poked him in the chest. “I told you. Everyone watches Shark Week. Even Captain America.”

“Shark Week,” he muttered. “What the hell happened to this country?”

“I like it,” Steve said. “Cell phones, vaccines, an entire week devoted to sharks. The future’s not so bad.”

“You forgot free internet porn,” Darcy said.

“Just because I didn’t bring it up, doesn’t mean I forgot it,” Steve replied. “Not that I would know anything about it.” He flashed them all a grin that was far too innocent, and started unwrapping a sandwich.

Bucky chuckled, pushing himself into a sitting position, and letting Darcy up. “Yeah. Steve’s a modern day saint. Doesn’t drink, doesn’t chase dames, doesn’t need to delete his search engine history.”

“I do drink, it’s just a waste,” Steve responded. “As for the rest...Natasha, do I chase you?”

“Only all the time, handsome. And you’re in luck with the drinking. I brought you boys a little present from our resident Thunder God.” She pulled a tiny silver bottle out of her tote bag, and shook it with a smile. “How do you think it would taste in Coke?”

“Awful,” Steve said. He took the bottle from Nat, poured a little into two plastic cups, and handed one to Bucky.

“Is that what I think it is?” Darcy asked, taking the cup from Bucky and sniffing the contents. “Holy shit. It is.”

“Want some?” Bucky asked her.

“Of this? Uh-uh. Nope.” She shook her head, handing the cup back. “Unlike you, I’ve seen this stuff in action. It’s all yours, Shark-boy.”

Bucky looked at the liquid in his cup again, then shrugged and downed it. Natasha tipped a minuscule amount into her bottle of Coke, tapped it against Steve’s cup, and they both took a small sip.

“Attention Supers, I just want to state for the record that I can’t carry you people, nor am I going to be held responsible for anything your sorry asses decide to do while intoxicated,” Darcy announced. “Just remember that when Thor’s super-brew kicks in.”

“The only one who’s going to need carrying is Bucky,” Steve replied, nodding his head at the empty cup in his friend’s hand. 

“That’s officially your problem right now, Steven,” she replied. “Although if I remember the last Christmas party correctly, we are all going to be treated to you humming the opening theme to Babes in Toyland shortly while you try to hang a dessert spoon on your nose.”

“There was no trying involved,” Steve said. “That spoon bent to my will on the first attempt, and I still have the hundred dollar bill from Tony to prove it.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows incredulously. “You kept that?”

He tipped a little more of the drink into his mouth, and said, “Framed it. You know, this might be alright with Coke after all.”

Nat obligingly poured some Coke into his cup. “When am I wrong? Who still needs a sandwich?”

“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell I just drank?” Bucky asked, staring into his empty cup doubtfully.

“Remember a week or so ago, when you told me how it’s almost as impossible for you to get drunk as it is for Steve for metabolism reasons?” Darcy asked, and he nodded. “That only applies to normal alcohol, and the stuff you just drank definitely isn’t normal. It was made by someone named Broomhilda on Asgard…”

“No, no, no,” Steve interjected, swirling the liquid in his cup. “Not Broomhilda, Brunhilde. But I don’t think she made it. They just used her boat to age it. It took a thousand years according to Thor.”

“Okay, Captain Cocktail.” Darcy flapped her hand impatiently at Steve to stop his impromptu Asgardian history lesson, and turned back to Bucky. “Regardless of whose boat it was, in about five minutes you are going to be feeling it, and I am going to want to murder Steve. Probably. And I still need my sandwich.”

“Here.” Natasha passed her one of the wrapped sandwiches, a paper plate, and the jar of pickles. 

With one eye firmly fixed on Bucky, Darcy got her lunch situated on her plate. She reached around him to retrieve her Coke, and settled cross-legged on the blanket to eat. “I seriously can’t decide right now if I need to be the token sober person to prevent you three from doing something stupid, or if I should just spike this Coke and join you in the stupid.”

Bucky stretched out on the blanket, hands tucked under his head. “Vodka’s in the cooler.”

“ _My_ vodka?” Natasha questioned, leaning over to dig through the ice packs the cooler. “How did you find that?”

“The same way I found Steve’s stash of Sky Bars,” he said. “They’re under the vodka.”

“You took my Sky Bars?” Steve started to move things around in the cooler too, and Natasha batted his hand away with a frown.

“Yeah. When you find them, will you throw one my way?” he asked them, winking at Darcy.

She sighed. “Five minutes might have been a conservative estimate, huh?”

A Sky Bar flew over her head, smacking Bucky directly in the chest. He just smiled and started unwrapping it.

“Fine. I’ll have some vodka,” Darcy said defeatedly.

“Breakfast _and_ lunch,” Bucky declared, smirking goofily at her.

Natasha looked up from the cooler. “What does he mean, breakfast and lunch?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Darcy told her. She turned a stern eye on Bucky. “Right, James?”

“You sound like my ma, Spot. Don’t look like her, though.”

Bucky openly ogled her, and Darcy rubbed her hand over her forehead. “Can I get that vodka now please, Natasha?”

Twenty minutes later a party atmosphere was in full swing on the blanket. Although, Darcy’s mood was slightly less festive than the other three. Steve was reclining back against the pile of tote bags, catching squares of Sky Bar in his mouth which were being pitched at him by a highly amused Natasha. It was actually impressive that he was getting them in his mouth at all, but more went in than bounced off his face. Not that those went to waste. He was currently fumbling around next to his head for the ones he’d missed.

Natasha seemed more sober than he did. Darcy was pretty positive that was sheer force of will on the Nat’s part. Either that, or she’d drunk less than Steve had. It was hard to tell. Bucky, though… He was a whole different story entirely. 

Darcy looked down at the slightly hazy blue eyes gazing dreamily up at her, and grinned. “How you doing down there, Sarge?” she inquired.

“Sandwich me,” he replied, opening his mouth like a baby bird.

This had been going on since right after he finished his candy bar. She held her sandwich to his mouth, waiting while he took a massive bite. He chewed studiously, watching her the whole time. Then his eyes slid over to her plate, brows raising optimistically.

“No pickle until you swallow that,” Darcy said.

A slow smile spread over his face, and he reached up to cup her cheek. “Whatever you say, doll.”

“And I’m getting you a bottled water to drink.”

His smile turned into a grimace, nose scrunching up in disgust. “Isn’t there any beer in the cooler?”

“Oh, there is, but you’re not getting it,” she said. “I still haven’t forgotten Virginia Beach.”

“That was for your own good.”

“And this is for _your_ own good,” Darcy told him. 

“You’re a heartless woman, Spot,” Bucky said.

“Are you going to call me that the whole time you’re drunk?”

“Maybe. Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“I don’t know, withhold making out until you remember my name?”

“Nah,” Bucky scoffed. “You won’t.”

“Oh yeah?” She bent over him, keeping herself just out of reach. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because,” he said, “you’re mine now. Rationed sugar.”

“Rationed what?”

Steve started to laugh. “Rationed sugar,” he said. “Bucky’s claiming you’re his steady girl.”

“Bucky is also trashed,” Darcy replied.

“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” the man in question stated. “Pickle?”

She fed him some of the pickle, giggling the whole time. “You’re a mess.”

“You’re beautiful,” he told her. “Better than Hedy Lamarr.”

“That’s a high compliment,” Steve said, and a piece of Sky Bar pinged off his chin.

“I know.” Darcy picked up the bite of chocolate and ate it. “I’m flattered.”

“Don’t let her fool you, Stevie. She likes me.”

“Shhh,” Darcy said, resting her hand gently over Bucky’s mouth. “I thought you were supposed to be good at cloak and dagger stuff.”

He kissed her palm. “I am. Especially dagger.”

She removed her hand before he could lick it as well. Which she was sure was his next step, because he was starting to look seriously mischievous. “Not right now you aren’t, and especially _not_ dagger, because there is no way I’m letting you near your weapon case in this state.”

“I could still be lethal, doll. Trust me.” He began to sit up, and she pushed him back down.

“Okay. I believe you, but I need exactly zero demonstrations to confirm it, buster, so stay right here on this blanket.”

“It’s Bucky, not Buster. B U C H A N A N,” he spelled out,

Steve had his arm over his face now, loudly cracking up from underneath it. Natasha leaned back on her palms, shaking her head.

“What?” Bucky asked.

“Nothing. You’re adorable,” Darcy said. “Give me a couple more vodka and Cokes and I’ll be adorable too.”

“I’ll give you more than a vodka and Coke,” he replied suggestively. 

Steve looked up at Natasha from under his arm, who turned her head away, shoulders shaking with mirth. She stood up, holding her hand out to Steve. 

“Come on, Rogers. I think that’s our cue to go for a walk.”

“You trying to get me alone and have your way with me, Romanoff?”

“Possibly.”

He was up like a shot. “See you guys in a bit.”

“Thought we’d never get rid of them,” Bucky said, watching them go.

Darcy felt her eyes narrowing in suspicion. He suddenly seemed pretty damn coherent for someone who couldn’t remember how to spell his own name. It crossed her mind that he might not be as plastered as he was letting on. 

“Are you faking?” she demanded.

“Who, me?” His lips curved up into a wide smile as he tugged her down until she was partway over him with her folded arms propped up on his chest. “I got no idea what you’re talking about, Spot.”

“You’re so full of shit right now,” Darcy said. “Are you even buzzed?”

“I’m a mildly irrigated,” Bucky replied. “Nothing serious. Brunhilde is going to have to get an older boat if she wants to get me lit.”

“So what was all that rationed sugar, and Hedy Lamarr talk then?”

“Oh. That.”

“Yeah,” she said, scooching up so she could kiss his chin. “That.”

“That part was all true.” He craned his neck a little so he could see her better. “Aim higher.”

Darcy snorted. “You’re trouble, do you know that?”

“I might be aware of something to that effect. Anyone ever tell you you’re cute when when you’re playing nursemaid to a guy who’s trouble?”

“I can’t believe I fed you my sandwich, you lying jerk.”

“That might have been my favorite part. Want me to feed you the rest?”

“Maybe.”

She stretched up, this time capturing his lips with her own. Bucky made a happy rumbling sound, and his hands came up to gently cradle her face. The kiss was sweet and lazy, lips moving together leisurely as her heartbeat pressed against his.

“Now that was worth getting rid of the other two for,” he said when they pulled apart.

“About them, how did Steve not know you were faking?”

“Who said he didn’t know?”

“Did he know?”

“Why do you think he found it so funny?” Bucky said. “Nah. He knew. Knew I wanted some time alone with you too. That’s why they went for a walk.”

“I’d be more annoyed about that if this wasn’t so nice,” she said. “You. Me. The ocean, and warm sand. It’s kind of the best.”

“See that? What did I say earlier? Rationed sugar,” Bucky teased. "You know, I think Steve just won the betting pool at work on us.”

“Did he? We should ask him to split the winnings. It’s only fair. We did all the work.”

“Not _all_ the work,” Bucky said, eyes wandering over her curves. “I think we’ve still got some territory that needs to be covered.”

“Yes we do, and I plan on completely rocking your world, Bucky Barnes. Just wait.”

“Waiting’s getting old.”

“Old like you?” she asked.

“Oh doll, you are going to wish you hadn’t said that.” He scooped her into his arms, and got to his feet.

Her eyes widened as he started for the water. “No. Do you hear me? Don’t even think about it.”

“K sozhaleniyu, ya ne govoryu po-angliyski,” he said.

“I’m going to repay you for this so hard later,” she retorted. “I’m serious, Mr. I Don’t Speak English. Throw me in that water, and you are dead to me.”

“Who said anything about throwing?”

“Bucky.” She infused every single ounce of warning she could into her voice.

They were waist deep now, Bucky holding her above the waves with a smirk on his face. “Here sharky, sharky, sharky.”

“Dead. You are dead. I will kill you and then resuscitate you so I can kill you again.”

“I think I see one,” he said.

“James Buchanan Barnes, if you don’t put me back on dry land right now, so help me, I will unscrew your prosthetic and beat you with it while you sleep!”

He paused, lifting her higher so their faces were level. “You think it screws in? Really?”

“I don’t know,” Darcy said, brow furrowing. “Doesn’t it?”

“No.” Bucky rolled his arm, sending the plates shifting along the entire length. “No screws.”

“Huh. The more you know, right? Anyway, no feeding me to a shark. Please? It would ruin our whole relationship.”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“I do put it that way.”

“Okay. No sharks.”

“Wrong,” she said, sliding her arms around his neck. “Just one.”

Bucky growled.

“For the last time. Sharks. Don’t. Growl.”

“They might not,” he said. “But I do.”

“Oh yeah? In that case, growl at me again.”

He did.


	12. Better Than Just Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last four days before New Orleans turn out to be longer...and better...than Bucky ever expected. Also, gummi bears, minor jealousy, Rogue saves the day, and Natasha is pretty much done with super-soldier posturing forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how I said this chapter was going to be New Orleans? Okay, well technically I didn't lie.
> 
> Technically.
> 
> I mean, New Orleans happens. Ish. But I realized that there was some stuff on the way to New Orleans that needed to be written, and so...I wrote it. The upshot is that the fic has an extra chapter, and downside is that the stuff everyone is waiting for that happens in New Orleans still hasn't happened yet. Other stuff happens, though. I promise. Good stuff. Fun stuff. Smutty stuff. New characters even. Anyway, yep. Extra chapter. :D
> 
> ***********************************************

The four days left between North Carolina and New Orleans took way too long to get through in Bucky’s opinion. Not that he didn’t enjoy them. He did. But the waiting… The waiting was killing him. At least their days were packed with things to do. It was the only time Bucky ever appreciated Steve’s need for a daily itinerary.

In Charleston, South Carolina, they went to a big open air market. It was full of pricey local crafts, touristy trap garbage, and stalls selling odd little trinkets. He preferred something more quiet, and less crowded. Darcy must have sensed that, because she waited until they were passing by one of the arched doorways, and ducked out, pulling him along with her. They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering down secluded side streets, and had lunch at a local hole in the wall that served the best she-crab soup Bucky had ever tasted.

The campground was a disaster, though. They’d asked for two plots, and there was some mixup so they only got one. That meant the tents were crowded together so tightly that there was no chance of anything happening between him and Darcy without Steve and Natasha getting a play by play.

From there they drove to Savannah. The campground was located just outside the city on Tybee Island. Bucky actually got both tents out, and he would have put them both up too, but Darcy took hers out of his hands and tossed it back into the SUV.

“Everybody knows I’m going to end up in your tent anyway. Might as well not waste time that could be better spent hooking up, right?” she said, and Bucky was inclined to agree.

He was even more inclined to agree later that night when Darcy taught him how to play strip travel chess. Bucky suspected she was making the rules up as she went along, but he wasn’t complaining. Besides, he finally got to make good on his promise of using his mouth to bring her off.

It was a tricky business. She wasn’t lying about being loud, and it was hard for him to remember they needed to be quiet when Darcy started making these throaty little moans that made him hard as a fucking rock in seconds. 

“Oh my God...oh my God, Bucky,” she gasped.

He swirled his tongue over her clit, relishing the way her hips dipped and lifted at the delicate touch. “You’re gonna wake everyone up, doll.”

Her hand slid down, and his dick throbbed almost painfully when he realized it was so she could hold herself open for him. “Not my fault.”

“Jesus Christ, Darcy,” Bucky said. “New Orleans can’t come soon enough.”

“No, but _I_ can if you keep that up,” she whispered, and he chuckled, turning his head to kiss the inside of her thigh.

His lips wandered down her leg, leaving a trail of lingering kisses all over the warm, smooth skin. 

“Think you can be quiet?” he asked. 

“No idea. Please… Just…”

“Just what? Just this?” Bucky let his tongue flick over her clit again, eliciting a muffled whimper. "No? I'll try something else."

He grinned up at her, and then bent his head to trace out the letter B with achingly slow precision. The rest of his name followed, then his rank...and then a few other words that weren’t strictly polite, but seemed fitting considering what they were doing. By the end she was wrecked, body arching, and hands clutching his sleeping bag, while her teeth cut into her bottom lip to prevent the moan he knew was trying to bubble to the surface.

“Please,” Darcy repeated. Her voice shook when she spoke in an effort to keep it low. “Please…”

Bucky had two fingers inside her now, working in tandem with his mouth. The hot, slick feel of her coupled with the breathy sounds she was making made him want to crawl up her body and have her right there. _Fuck_ , but she was gorgeous. All pillowy lips and creamy skin, not to mention curves for days that he wanted to lose himself in. Everything about her lit Bucky up inside like the goddamn Fourth of July. 

And she wanted _him_. 

It was enough to make a guy dizzy with the need to please her. And he was.

Darcy’s breath started catching, body writhing desperately beneath his left hand as it held her steady. The way her legs had begun to tremble made him guess she was right on the brink of coming, and he had no intention of making her wait anymore. Taking her clit between his lips, he rolled his tongue over it once and then sucked. Darcy went wild. One hand clasped firmly over her mouth to stifle her cries of pleasure, while the other buried itself in his hair, pulling him closer as her body shuddered and quaked.

Bucky coaxed it out as long as he could, hand tight on her hip. Finally she stilled with just a lingering shiver here or there from the aftershocks. He leaned in to drop a final kiss on her, and Darcy immediately slid a hand between them.

“Stop, stop,” she squeaked with breathless laughter. “Too sensitive.”

“So I did alright then?” he asked, moving up to settle on top of her. 

Darcy closed her eyes. “Bucky Barnes, you _know_ that was better than just ‘alright’.”

“How much better?”

Her eyes opened, and the slightly dazed look still in them told Bucky all he needed to know even before she spoke. “A whole lot better. So much better. I’d say...eleven million percent better.”

“Not twelve million?”

“Let’s round it up to thirteen." 

“I’ll take it,” he agreed, and then groaned when she slid her hand into his jeans. For a moment her fingers fumbled past the fabric in the way, and then they were gliding along his length curling around him so she could stroke from base to tip.

“Remember the other day when you had me show you how I get off?” she asked softly.

“I… I might recall something to that effect,” he replied, mouth dropping open as she stroked him again. 

“I want to watch you,” Darcy told him. “I want to watch you, and then I want to swallow you down.”

Bucky had been knocked out before. More than once. He’d gotten coldcocked in the boxing ring, fallen from a moving train, been shot, stabbed, and, on one very memorable occasion, electrocuted. None of those things had done him in the way Darcy’s words just had. He didn’t even know he’d reacted until he heard the tearing of fabric from where his left hand was clenched in the layer of blankets beneath them, and the rapid fire pistoning of his plates re-configuring from shoulder to wrist.

“Whoa.” She looked up at him with a smile teasing up the corners her mouth as she withdrew her hand. “Was it something I said?”

“It was everything you said, doll. You really want that?”

“Want what? To give you head? Is that even a real question that you’re asking me right now? Roll over and ask me again.”

“Christ,” Bucky muttered, doing as she asked, and working open the fly on his jeans. “So...you want me to…?”

Darcy rolled onto her side, head propped on one hand. “Yep. Don’t worry. I’ll help.”

He gave a short laugh, shaking his head. “Help, huh?”

“Like a champ.”

Part him couldn’t believe he was doing this. Another part of him couldn’t believe she’d asked him to do it, but the rest of him? Yeah, the rest of him didn’t give a shit about any of that. He was painfully hard, and the idea of Darcy watching was something he hadn’t known he’d be into this much. As Bucky shoved his clothes down far enough to take himself in hand, her eyes skipped over his body, steadily darkening as her gaze finally rested on his fingers wrapped around his cock. The unabashed arousal in her expression made him twitch against his palm.

For a second Bucky couldn’t even get this thoughts together enough to move. Then he did, gripping himself tightly and moving his hand in a long, slow stroke. She licked her lips, and he pushed into his hand again.

“Fuck yeah,” Darcy said, leaning in to nip at his earlobe. “Do you have any idea how hot that is?”

Air hissed through his teeth, hand closing in the rough, hard grip he normally used. A few seconds passed with nothing but sharp bursts of building pleasure with every pump of his fist, and her whispering encouragement in his ear. Then Bucky felt Darcy’s fingertips coasting along his breastbone. They moved in a smooth glide, back and forth in a hypnotic dance down his chest. The sensation wasn’t tickling, but it made his muscles jump in response just the same. He sucked in a harsh breath when they hit his abs. So close now to where he was straining for her, and moving closer. Darcy drew the tip of her index finger across the slit in the head of his dick, and heat licked up his spine. 

“You liked that,” she said, smiling at his reaction. “You know what else I think you’d like?”

Without waiting for an answer, which Bucky probably couldn’t of given at this point anyway, she shifted over him, hair skimming down the length of his body as she positioned lips over his throbbing erection.

“ _Goddamn_ ” he breathed, sitting up slightly. She swept the thick spill of brown curls behind her shoulder so he could see her better. 

“Goddamn is right,” Darcy said. “But you might want to save some of that cursing. You’re gonna need it.” 

Then she fucking _winked_ at him, ducked her head, and did the same thing with her tongue that she’d just done with her finger. She followed it up with taking the whole head in her mouth, letting her tongue run between the ridge and the edge of his foreskin. Bucky’s head dropped back on the pillow under it. 

“You sure you don’t want to watch?” she inquired, removing her mouth so she could lick around his fingers.

It took him two tries to answer. “Just catching my breath.”

“Oh. Is that what it is.” Darcy’s voice was rife with amusement. “Uhuh. Well, when you’re ready, I’ll just be down here, ruining you for all other women.”

“You’ve already done that, doll,” Bucky said. “Trust me.”

He heard her low laughter as her smaller hand curled around his large one, working with him, stroke for stroke. The whole time her mouth played teasingly around their hands. She switched up between fleeting licks along his length where it was exposed, and sucking the head into her mouth whenever their hands moved down towards the base. 

The constant changes in pattern and sensations meant Darcy was driving him crazy in the best possible way. It was never enough to get him off, just to hold him on the edge as long as possible. She’d been right about the cursing. He did that and more as she dismantled every shred of his self-control. Bucky was just at the point of begging, when she let her mouth follow their hands down for a long, slow suck that left his breathing ragged. 

After that Darcy stopped teasing. Her lips stayed wrapped around him, moving in time with every thrust of his cock through their fingers. He struggled to keep from pushing up into her mouth, the only thing keeping him anchored enough to stop was the warm touch of her other hand resting on his thigh.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he said hoarsely. “Darcy…”

“Getting close?” She looked up at him from under her lashes, and then slid her lips down so far he swore he could feel the back of her throat for a moment.

“Yeah. You don’t…don’t have to…”

Bucky waved his hand, not sure he could even get the words out. Darcy just looked up at him again, and lifted her mouth away to flash him a sultry smile.

“I know I don’t. The point is that I _want_ to, so….” She licked over him with the flat of her tongue. “...I’m gonna.”

Bucky’s teeth sank into his lip, all conscious thought disappearing as he watched her mouth close around him again. It wasn’t long after that. Darcy kept her eyes on his the whole time, something he didn’t even know he had a thing for until that moment. He tried to warn her just before he came, he really did, but the words wouldn’t form. She knew just the same. Whether she read it in the labored harshness of his breathing, or something in his face gave it away, he wasn’t sure. But she knew, lips sealing around him as his climax surged up and pulled him under. 

For several incredible seconds Bucky wasn’t aware of anything but her. The feeling of her mouth and hands bringing him to the most powerful release of his life. In that precious space of time he would have given her access to any part of him she wanted, cracked himself wide open so she could see it all. He expected that feeling would subside when it ended.

It didn’t.

Bucky wasn’t sure what that meant, but what he did know was that he wanted to cherish and protect the thing that was growing between them with every fiber of his body. Darcy finished with a soft press of lips to his hipbone before moving back up to lie beside him again.

“I’m going to fall for you, Bucky Barnes,” she declared quietly. “Then what are you going to do?”

Everything went still inside Bucky. Her unguarded blue gaze met his with a mix of hope and vulnerability in its depths. The air stuttered in his lungs as he pulled in a breath to speak. “Fall for you right back. Although...it might be a little late for me when it comes to that."

She took his face in her hands so she could brush her lips over his, and murmured, “That's okay, it might be a little late for me too.”

So yeah. Tybee Island held some very fond memories for Bucky. Memories he suspected would remain some of his favorites forever.

Their next stop was a state park in Alabama, where they stayed in an actual cabin. A _one room_ cabin. When Darcy saw the two rickety double beds set up side by side in the rustic shack, she looked like she wanted to murder someone. Steve was the most likely candidate, and Bucky didn’t blame her. The place was worse than some of the less habitable holes he'd been forced to stay in while on missions.

Every single time anyone moved all night the beds squeaked like a screen door in gale. Bucky formed opinions about single room cabins that night that he’d carry for the rest of his life. None of them were complimentary. The only consolation he had was that Steve wasn’t getting any either. Not even in the shower, where the water ran brown for a full five minutes before turning marginally less brown. Darcy brushed her teeth with bottled water, glaring at Steve the whole time. Bucky didn’t blame her for that either. Alabama was his least favorite stop on their trip.

Mississippi was better. They got into De Soto National Forest after dark. There’d been an overturned eighteen wheeler on 59, and by the time they actually rolled into the campground, it was too late to think of doing more than setting up the tents, and picking a place to eat. The diner they chose turned out to be a real locals place, worn, and homey. It was mostly empty aside from a group of old timers wearing baseball caps with military emblems on them that were sitting at a table in the corner. 

Of course, he and Steve were oldtimers themselves, if Bucky was being honest with himself. These guys probably weren’t in the second World War, though. They looked too young for that. Maybe Korea. That assumption was borne out when one of them headed over to the old fashioned Wurlitzer in the corner, and Bucky got a good look at his cap. He was Navy, if the USS SHIELDS logo was anything to go by.

The music that filled the room a few minutes later sounded a little like the swing bands from when he and Steve were younger, but not quite. The singer was a woman with a rich, full voice. They weren’t three notes into the first song when Darcy looked up from where she’d been reading her menu.

“Is that Rosemary Clooney?” Her head tilted, listening while the woman sang something about stars in your eyes. “It IS! She was my grandmother’s favorite. I grew up hearing this music during Sunday lunch at her house. Listen. This part is so good.” 

She hummed along, swaying back and forth a little in time with the music. Bucky couldn’t help smiling. He was about to go back to his own menu when the guy who’d put the record on came up and tapped Darcy on the shoulder. All his buddies looked on in amusement as he whipped his cap off, and held out his hand.

“My friends don't think an old fella like me could ask a pretty young thing like you to dance, but I told them nobody says no to Rosemary Clooney,” he said.

"Well, then let's just show them you were right,” Darcy said warmly, standing up and taking his proffered hand. “You guys will have to excuse me. My new friend and I are going to show those guys over there how to cut a rug. If the waitress shows up, I’ll have that brisket platter thing with the fried okra, and mashed potatoes.” 

There were a couple whistles, and more than a little ribbing from the other vets as her dance partner walked her over to the small parquet rectangle in front of the Wurlitzer. A few bars of the song were left, and she smiled and chatted the whole time they were dancing, laughing when he dipped her at the end. To Bucky’s surprise, when the song switched over to the same woman singing something faster with Italian words scattered through the lyrics, Darcy moved straight into a pretty decent foxtrot without missing a beat. 

Next to him he could see Steve taking notice, his menu left forgotten on the table.

“Did you know she could dance like that?” he asked Bucky.

Natasha glanced up for a moment and said, “I did.”

Bucky turned to stare at her. “Why didn’t I know?” 

“Did you ever ask?” Nat inquired coolly.

“Well no. Guess not,” Bucky said. “How does she know?”

“Some cousin of hers insisted on it for her wedding. It had some kind of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers theme, all big band music. Darcy was a bridesmaid.” Natasha flipped the menu over to peruse the back. “You know verbal communication works wonders in a relationship. You should try it sometime.” 

“We communicate fine, умник,” he retorted. “I just didn’t know she could dance.”

Another minute or so passed. The time the waitress returned to take their orders, and Steve collected the menus and handed them over. Then he looked at Bucky and said, “You know, I never thought I’d see the day when you let the Navy waltz off with your girl, Buck.”

He was up before Bucky could even reply, taking Natasha’s hand, and heading over to the jukebox. She dropped a handful of quarters in while he scrolled through the selections. Seconds later the song changed again, this time to Billie Holiday singing The Very Thought of You.

Natasha walked over to Darcy and the vet, smoothly cutting in. Darcy looked to Steve, waiting to see if he’d join her, but he just shook his head with a smile, then nodded in Bucky’s direction. She caught his Bucky’s eye, holding it as she approached. 

“So, I think I kind of remember reading somewhere that you know how to do this whole dancing thing,” she said to him when she got to the table. 

“Did you?” he asked, trying to play it cool.

“Yep.”

“I’ve been known to dance. On occasion.”

She grinned. “Mhmm, and were any of those occasions _after_ Truman’s stint in the Whitehouse?”

“You calling me old?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“No. I’m calling you out of practice,” Darcy replied. 

He rolled his eyes. “Hey Steve, they got Flying Home on that thing?”

“Already programmed, Buck. Not Barnet, though. Glen Miller.”

“Whaddaya say, doll?” Bucky said to Darcy as he stood up. “Want to see just how out of practice I am?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me all night long,” she responded.

“We’ve only been here a little over half an hour.”

“Are we going to stand here arguing over minor details, or are you going to dance with me?"

“I’m gonna dance with you,” he replied. “Let’s go.”

So they danced, laughing their way through the Lindy Hop, because he was rusty despite all his big talk, and she only had a basic grasp of the steps. It wasn’t like Bucky had forgotten how to do it, exactly, but the last time he’d twirled a girl on the dancefloor like that was a lifetime away. He loved it, though. Loved the way Darcy’s eyes shone with happy energy, and how the rest of the room turned into a blur and faded away just the way he remembered it doing all those years ago.

Once Steve's selections ended, Darcy picked some songs, then Natasha. Some were big band classics that Bucky recognized, and some were newer songs, but they danced to them all. One by one, the girls got most of the vets out on the floor as well as him and Steve. It wasn’t until just shy of two am that they all stumbled back into camp worn out, but with that kind of tired that felt well-earned. Darcy half-climbed, half-fell into their tent, giggling the whole time. Bucky turned to give Steve a small salute, and ducked through the flap after her, zipping it up behind them.

As soon as he spread out on their pile of sleeping bags and blankets Darcy was there, lips grazing his in a goodnight kiss. He moved his arm so she could tuck her head into the hollow of his shoulder automatically, wrapping it around her when she settled. She was asleep almost immediately. Bucky listened to her soft breathing for a while until he fell asleep himself. It was the first time he’d slept deeply with her beside him, dead to the world until Steve woke them up in the morning.

Actually, it was the first time he’d slept like that in years, period. In some ways that scared him...but in others? In others Bucky felt like maybe not sleeping with one eye open was something he could get used to again. It felt good.

The next day they loaded up and started the trek into New Orleans. Steve was behind the wheel, and Bucky was in the back with Darcy, the same way it had been when they started back in New York. Except this time she was leaning over the armrest of her seat so she get a handful of the gummi bears he had sitting in a paper bag on his lap. They’d picked them up at a little mom and pop candy store along the way.

“Stop eating all the red ones,” he said, as she picked through the bag looking for more.

“I have two things to say to that, Barnes. Point the first, I bought them,” she replied. “And point the second, if you want the red ones, you’ll have to defend them from me. Good luck with that.”

Bucky just shrugged, and lifted the bag straight out of her reach. She made a frantic grab for it, but wasn’t fast enough. 

“How’s that for defense?” he asked.

“Oh my God, you suck. Bring those bears back down here right now,” Darcy demanded.

“Nope.” He dug into the crinkly bag with his other hand, removing six or seven of the little jelly candies and deliberately ate them one at a time while she tried to stop him.

“Did you just eat one of the pineapple ones? BUCKY, WE HAD AN AGREEMENT!”

“That treaty was nullified when you refused to share the red ones,” he replied.

“That treaty cannot be nullified without prior mediation from two neutral parties!” Darcy grabbed his sleeve, trying to pull his arm down to her level. “We did not have mediation, therefore the treaty still stands, and you need to relinquish the hostages right now, or so help me, I am coming over there.”

“You’re already over here,” Bucky said, referring to the way she was half in his seat despite her seatbelt still desperately trying to contain her.

“Yes, but I haven't formally declared war, which is _so_ about to happen,” she stated with an ominous glare.

“You’re declaring war on a former Army sharpshooter, and second in command of the Howling Commandos? Again?” He carefully selected another one of the clear looking gummi bears that she swore were pineapple flavored, and looked at it for a second before popping it into his mouth. “Is this the fourth or fifth time since we left New York?”

“Like I have time to keep track of trivial stuff like that. I’m a very busy and important S.H.I.E.L.D. agent slash hacker with lots of pressing matters on my mind.”

“Right.”

They faced off in silence for a moment, Bucky fighting back a grin and losing. She lost too.

“Technically it’s the third time,” Darcy finally said. “There was the pillow fight, which you only won by cheating…”

He snorted. “Cheating. There was no cheating, only me winning fair and square.”

“...the race back to the boardwalk in Virginia, where you also cheated, although I’ll allow it because _I_ won…”

“See, there you’re wrong. That wasn’t so much cheating as it was a philanthropic endeavor.”

“Philanthropic? Are you even listening to yourself right now? How was that philanthropic?”

“Trust me, doll, it was philanthropic. All for the greater good. And, I feel like I need to point out that it happened before the pillow fight. How am I supposed to trust your numbers if you can’t even get the timeline straight?”

“You two had a pillow fight?” Natasha’s incredulous eyes met his in the rearview mirror.

“She was drunk,” Bucky replied. “I had to defend myself.”

“He knocked me off the bed with his super arm,” Darcy informed her. “Right onto the floor.”

“You knocked her onto the floor?” Steve interjected. “Buck…”

Bucky threw his free hand up in disbelief. “It was nothing like that. I chucked a pillow at her a little harder than I meant to, and she went over. She was fine. Got a pretty good hit in herself when I went to see if she was okay.”

Natasha turned to Steve. “Are you hearing this? Who _is_ this guy?”

“Oh it’s Bucky,” Steve told her. “Trust me.”

“You’re all wrong, anyway,” Bucky said to Darcy. “This is the fifth time if we’re counting the race. You threatened me with death twice in North Carolina. Both times involved sharks. And before you say it, I already know they don’t growl. No vocal chords.”

“Really? Five? I’m a total badass,” she said proudly. “You can call me Imperator Darcy if you want.”

Bucky almost choked on his gummi bear. Up front Steve broke out laughing, and Natasha smirked. Darcy made another attempt to get the bag, yanking hard on his sleeve, but he refused to budge.

“You know, it’s really not fair to use the robo-arm,” she said. “At least give a girl a chance here.”

“Nope.”

Darcy sighed. “Okay. What are the terms of surrender?”

“You’re officially surrendering?”

“I want my damn gummi bears, so yes.”

“See Stevie? That’s how you keep a girl in…” Bucky didn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence before her backpack came crashing down on his head.

“Yeah, Buck. Looks like you’re really in charge back there,” Steve said dryly. 

They arrived in New Orleans a short time after that. The gummi bear war had been resolved with a truce, and shared custody of the bag. If Darcy ended up getting it twice as often as he did, Bucky didn’t mention it. Only a fool wouldn’t know when discretion was the better part of valor, and his mother certainly hadn’t raised a fool.

Natasha’s mysterious friend was meeting them at some club in the Marigny district. Bucky got a strange vibe from it the moment they pulled up. Something felt...off. He wasn’t sure what. Steve seemed a little twitchy too, but Natasha was as relaxed and poised as ever, and Darcy seemed unaffected. The sensation was pervasive enough that Bucky shadowed Darcy closely as they walked inside. Nat caught one of the wary glances between him and Steve, and shook her head with a sigh.

“It’s a bar, boys, not a war zone. Stand down,” she muttered as they walked through the door.

They weren’t ten feet into the joint when a tall, lanky guy unfolded himself from a seat in a dimly lit section, and headed their way. He had auburn hair, nearly as long as Bucky’s, and wore a tan duster jacket over his clothes. The closer he got, the more tense Bucky became. Steve too, but you only could tell by the set of his shoulders.

“Ma chère, Natasha,” the man said in a thick, Cajun accent, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips. “I had wondered when you might be arriving in my fair city.”

Natasha gave him nod. “Remy. It’s always a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine, to be sure,” he replied. “I take it these are your friends?” He turned to Steve, and Bucky could see surprise flicker over his friend’s face for the briefest second before Steve composed himself. “You must be the good Captain, yes?”

“Steve Rogers,” he said, holding out his hand.

Remy took it, inclining his head slightly. “And I am Remy LeBeau. So good to meet you at last.”

“My friend, Sergeant James Barnes,” Steve said, and Bucky stepped forward.

“James.” Remy shifted his way, and Bucky realized what had thrown Steve off. The man’s eyes were deep scarlet banded in black, shimmering faintly even in the low light. There was something odd in his handshake, too, like a well of energy burned just below the surface of his skin. 

Remy’s eyes slid away, coming to rest on Darcy with great interest. “Well, well, you never said you were keeping company with an angel, ma belle araignée.” 

“No angel, just Darcy Lewis,” she said, reach out to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Enchanté.” LeBeau took her proffered hand in both of his, brushing his lips over her knuckles for far longer than Bucky was comfortable with, while gazing up at her with his unsettling red eyes. 

Bucky flexed his fingers, setting the machinery in the metal plates whirring threateningly. Remy was quick to recognize the lay of the land, and took a respectful step back.

“It would seem the angel is taken, no?” he said with a rueful laugh. “You are a lucky man, James.”

Steve took a step closer to Bucky, folding his arms over his chest. “We appreciate your generosity with letting us use your home during our visit, Mr. LeBeau.” 

“Please, there’s no need for such formalities between friends. You may call me Remy.”

After a moment of silently sizing the other man up, Steve said, “That’s very kind of you...Remy.”

LeBeau didn’t seem bothered by Steve’s stiff reply. If anything he appeared entertained. 

“You’ll be wanting your keys I think,” Remy said. He turned around in a swirl of long, brown coat, and strode towards the bar. 

They waited, Natasha flashing a sharp expression at both him and Steve while the other man wasn’t looking. 

“ _Behave_ ,” she mouthed, then plastered a thousand watt smile on her face just as LeBeau was returning. “Thank you, Remy. It was so nice of you to lend us your house for the week. I hope we’re not putting you out too much?”

“Not at all,” he said. “The house is between tenants, and I prefer to keep an eye on things here. The bar won’t keep itself.”

“You mean that you don’t want to miss out on a game of cards, and there’s always one available here,” Nat replied, and he grinned.

“That too, chère. Speaking of a card game.” Remy pulled a pack of playing cards from his pocket, and set it on the aged bartop. “Your keys.”

Bucky frowned. Steve glanced his way with a similar expression. The man was up to something, but what? Natasha seemed completely unfazed, watching as Remy thumbed the box open, and shook out the cards. He tapped them once on the edge of the bar, then tossed them into the air.

The energy that Bucky had felt when he shook Remy’s hand pulsed outwards, and all he could do was react as the cards scattered in front of them. He snagged Darcy around the waist, shoving her behind him, and pushed Steve out of the way at the same time. His eyes never left the flurry of cards, which were now bobbing in midair with no visible means of support.

“Please. I mean you no harm,” Remy said. “And if I did…” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, let’s just say the harm would already be done, yeah?” His hand waved slowly, and the cards separated into staggered rows. “This? It is a game only. Pick one.”

“You probably could have gone about that less dramatically,” Natasha said, stepping up to choose a card. 

“You know me, chère. I can never resist an opportunity to shock and amaze.” At his words, half the cards fizzled out in haze of sparks.

Darcy shoved against Bucky’s back, and her irritated voice spilled out from behind him. “I think you can let me go now. The scary man isn’t going to kill me with 52 Pick-up, and I’m missing the show.”

He reluctantly released his hold on her so she could move where she could see. Reluctance turned into downright dislike when he noticed the way LeBeau’s eyes covertly roved over her while her attention was fixed on the cards. Letting Darcy go didn’t mean Bucky dropped his guard. The telekinesis trick was creepy enough, but he suspected it was just the tip of the iceberg. If it _was_ telekinesis. All he knew was that it looked like some of the stuff Wanda could do, and that‘s what she called it. Bucky would just as soon have stayed in a hotel if he knew this guy came with the house.

Natasha appeared to have made a decision about which card she wanted. She touched one lightly with a single finger. “That one,” she declared.

LeBeau leaned back against the bar. “Are you sure?”

“The key is the Queen of Hearts, and unless I’ve lost my touch, she’s hiding right here.”

“You say that’s my Lady Love?” He chuckled and every other card flashed out of existence with tiny explosive pops. Then he plucked the remaining one out of the air, flipping it over to reveal the Queen of Hearts. “Just as you said, there she is. You have not lost your touch, ma belle araignée. If you ever wish for a partner at the card table, I am at your service.”

“Thanks, but she already has one,” Steve said in a mild tone that belied his steely body language.

“A pity,” Remy responded, handing the card out to Darcy. Just before she took it, the paper burned away to expose a set of skeleton keys. He blew the remnants out, and set the keys in her palm with a flourish.

Then tension in the room upped a few more notches. Bucky was beginning to count the exits in preparation for a fight, when a soft, southern drawl interrupted them.

“I think you’re making these poor boys a little edgy, Remy darlin’.”

Bucky twisted around to see who had spoken, and saw a petite woman approaching from the stairwell near the corner of the room. She clucked her tongue, shaking her head at Remy. The motion set the strands of her cinnamon colored bob swinging forward. In contrast, the hair framing her face was stark white, and she tucked it behind her ears as she neared where they were standing. 

“Hello Natasha,” she said. “Been a long while, hasn’t it?” 

For the first time since they’d arrived, Nat looked surprised. “Anna. Remy didn’t tell me you'd be here.”

“Typical. He’s always been a bad boy, haven’t you, sugar?” She brushed the back of her hand down the side of Remy’s face, going up on her tiptoes to kiss him, and he smiled fondly at her. 

“That I am, chère. But I am good to you, no?”

If Natasha seemed surprised before, now she appeared positively stunned. The woman who’d identified herself as Anna let out a peeling laugh. 

“Did I just scare you, darlin’? Sometimes I forget that not everyone knows. I’ve learned some new tricks since you saw me last,” she said, holding her hands out palms up, before threading the fingers of the right one through Remy’s. 

Bucky found the gesture puzzling, but Natasha clearly didn’t. 

“Obviously,” she replied, regaining her composure. “Good for you. You look happy.”

“I am. Happiest I've ever been. Now, don’t let Remy worry you,” she said to Steve and Bucky. “He’s just a big old flirt. Can’t help himself. The truth is, I married him to keep him out of trouble. Oh, but where are my manners? I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Anna Marie LeBeau. Natasha here and I go way back. Now, let me see if I can guess.” She pointed to Steve. “You I’ve seen on TV. Captain America himself. And you...you are the friend who was missing, right?”

“James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky,’ he said, extending his hand to her.

“Bucky. Of course. That means this must be Darcy. So good to meet you, darlin’.” Then she paused, beamed at each of them in turn, and said, “Welcome to New Orleans, y’all. We're so glad to have you, and as my sweet Remy is so fond of saying, Laissez les bons temps rouler!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, one more thing about this chapter... I have never, ever written Rogue or Gambit before, and I did my very, very best to get them right. You have no idea. I had comic books open in front of me, and movie stuff, and cartoons. (I kid you not. Cartoons.) Not to mention, the absolutely lovely Anniemar helped immensely because she lives in New Orleans, and UsedKarma coached me on some of the French all the way from France. Shoutout to the adorable rlw0810 for her awesome support as well. :) 
> 
> Even with all that help, I'm nervous about it because they ARE new to me. I'm crossing my fingers that they sound okay, because they've been two of my alltime favorite Marvel characters since I was a kid, and I want to do them justice. If I didn't get it right, just know I tried. I really did. (and I have the stress migraine to prove it)
> 
> As for the Russian and French. The word that Bucky calls Natasha is smartass, and Gambit refers to her as his 'lovely spider'.


	13. The Yellow Louboutin Conspiracy Crew Ships It Hard (and they were right all along)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Darcy finally gets her man. (and he gets her too)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. God. You guys. This chapter was just....yeah. It ruled my life for two whole weeks. Sorry about the posting delay. Part of it was me not wanting the story to be over, and part of it was just sheer frustration over trying to get things just right. 
> 
> There's only one more chapter left after this one.
> 
> I can't believe it. That's just crazytown. Has it really been since September? Yowza. Anyway, for everyone who has been patiently waiting for certain events to happen, yeah. They are happening in this chapter. It's 100% NSFW. (Seriously, I had to create a whole new smutty playlist JUST for this chapter.) Bow chicka bow bow. ;)
> 
> *************************************************

Darcy wasn’t sure what she expected Remy’s house to look like. Maybe something like the bar, moody colors, and dimly lit with an edgy Victorian feel. Instead they were greeted by a cheery yellow three story house boasting white trim, and a double porch supported by square wood columns. Fancy wrought iron fencing enclosed the property, with a gate just off to one side. 

There was a row of palmettos down along that side. Flower beds full of hibiscus and jasmine lay beneath them. A small path led away from the gate, and disappeared around the back of the house. Darcy found out the purpose of the path a few minutes later when they went inside.

Natasha detached the smaller of the two keys off the ring Remy had given her, and handed it to Darcy. “This is for the guest house.”

“Guest house?” Darcy questioned, flipping the key over in her hand.

“You'll see. It’s on the other side of the courtyard out back. I thought maybe you and Bucky might like a little privacy,” she explained. “I sure as hell know Steve and I would.”

The guest house turned out to be a converted carriage house situated across the patio from the main house. It was painted the same pretty yellow, and had a large swath of bougainvillea climbing up the one side. The original entrance had been replaced with a tall Dutch door framed in by a ornamental window panels. Shutters and window boxes completed the look, and the interior was decorated with light, airy colors. 

A small kitchenette, living room, and bathroom were downstairs, and a spiral staircase led up to a lofted second floor. It had one bedroom, a master with its own bathroom. There was a four poster bed piled high with fluffy, white pillows and a matching white duvet. A little sitting area with a table was over by one of the windows, and an enormous wardrobe took up one whole corner. It was so beyond anything Darcy anticipated, and after an afternoon spent shopping, she couldn’t help but appreciate the soothing atmosphere.

Darcy didn’t get to appreciate it for long, though. The boys still weren’t back, and she had just enough time to get cleaned up and dressed for her date with Bucky. She had just spilled the contents of her shopping bags out onto the bed when her phone lit up with a text from Natasha asking if she’d like to come get ready in the main house with her.

So that’s how Darcy ended up sitting on the bed in Natasha and Steve’s room letting Nat style her hair into a victory roll. Apparently there nothing the woman wasn’t an expert in. Darcy watched in the mirror across the room as Natasha coaxed one side of her hair up into a modern version of the wartime era hairstyle. Once she had it where she wanted it, the redhead plucked a couple hairpins from her mouth, deftly fastening the wave in place. The other side of Darcy’s hair got swept up into a simple tortoiseshell barrette behind her ear. For a few more seconds Natasha’s fingers swept through the remaining loose curls, and then she nodded in satisfaction.

“You look good,” she said. “This hairstyle doesn’t work for everyone. I always did think you had an old school starlette thing going on.”

“You don’t think it’s too much? Like...costumey?”

“We’re in New Orleans,” Natasha replied with a smile. “There’s no such thing as too much. Besides, it’s almost Halloween. Ten bucks says half the people we see tonight will be in actual costumes. I promise you, no one is going to bat an eye at your hair. Well...Bucky probably will, but that’s what you’re going for, right?”

Nat slid a silver bracelet onto her wrist, shaking it into place, and stood up to straighten her skirt. Darcy got up too, smoothing the fabric of her dress. They’d found it in a store Anna had taken them to on Magazine Street. It was beautiful, sapphire blue with a spill of poppies down the bodice that increased in number as they got closer to the hem of the full skirt. The cinched waist was encircled by a black patent leather belt, but the best part was the neckline. It plunged just enough to be sexy without her having to worry about the girls spilling out, and had a pretty, scalloped edging that ran the whole way around. 

Natasha was wearing a form fitting grey wiggle dress with tiny black polka dots, and red trim. They found it in the same shop. She sat down in front of the mirror for a second so she could fasten the tiny buckles on her towering black pumps, kicking out one leg and then the other to admire them. 

“Well?” she asked Darcy.

“Are you really asking me how you look?” Darcy could feel one of her eyebrows quirking up in disbelief. “Really?”

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not,” Natasha said, taking the cap off her lipstick and applying it to her mouth.

“Let me put it this way,” Darcy replied, “if I had to pick between you, and Tom Hardy holding a puppy plus the keys to a new Ferrari, I would pick you.”

Natasha looked over at her slyly. “What if you had to choose between me and Bucky?”

“That question is patently unfair, Romanoff. Let me just rephrase it to show you. What if _you_ had to choose between me and Steve?”

“Now there’s a question,” Nat said. “Want to cancel on them and hijack a plane to Buenos Aires? Just us girls.” 

“I always wanted to go to Buenos Aires. Do you speak Spanish?” Darcy asked. “Because I don’t...and...that was a dumb question, wasn’t it? Is there any language you don’t speak?”

Nat grinned. “A few. Does this mean we’re going to Argentina?”

“Sadly, I can’t,” Darcy said with a sigh. “I have an unbreakable policy against standing people up. I’ll let you know if things don’t go well, though.”

“I feel like maybe we just missed out on something great here,” Nat mused with a mock sigh.

“Two ships passing in the night, dude,” Darcy responded. “Have you seen my shoes?”

“About that...” Natasha got up and opened the tall wardrobe standing in the corner. “I upgraded them a little. Hope you don’t mind.”

She held out a box to Darcy, and Darcy nearly fell over. It was a simple brownish colored shoebox, but written in swirling silvery white script across the front were the words Christian Louboutin, Paris.

“Are you shitting me right now?” Darcy asked, staring at the box.

“I never joke about Louboutins,” Nat said. “Go ahead. Open it.”

Darcy took the box, carefully prying open the lid. Nestled inside were a pair of bright yellow peep toe pumps with swirls of navy blue embroidery worked through them in delicate designs. 

She had to sit down on the bed again. “I might cry,” she said.

“You ruin that makeup, and I'll zap you with your own taser,” Natasha told her. “Just say thank you, and put them on.”

“Thank you. Although I’m pretty sure I officially owe you my first born now.” Darcy slipped her feet into the shoes, and then glanced suspiciously from the pumps to Natasha as something occurred to her. “These are very yellow.”

“Yes they are.”

“Uhuh. I can’t help but feel like maybe there’s a conspiracy going on here. Is there?”

“Let’s just say a very large, blonde birdie told me that a certain friend of his has a thing for that one pair of yellow heels you wear.”

“I knew it. You know, for the Captain of a team of superheroes working at a top secret organization, Steve sure has a big mouth.”

“Are you unhappy with the results?”

Darcy shook her head. “Nope.”

“Then that’s what counts.” Nat got up from the chair, and waved Darcy into it. “You need something else. Do you have a necklace with you?”

“I don’t. Jewelry wasn’t really on my mind when I was packing to go camping.”

Natasha pursed her lips. “That’s unfortunate.” She picked up her phone and tapped at the screen briefly. 

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing the issue.” She set the phone back down. 

“Fixing it how?”

“If I told you that, I’d have to kill you, and it’s a far drive to Roanoke.”

Darcy laughed. “Roanoke, the only place where one can dispose of a body.”

“Mmm,” Natasha hummed in agreement. “Very picturesque.” She consulted the slim platinum watch around her wrist. “I’d say we have about fifteen minutes before the boys arrive. Just long enough for a sisterly chat.”

“You’re going to have to give me a second first. I need to bask in the fact that a woman who can take out an entire Russian gang while tied to a chair just referred to me as her sister.”

“It wasn’t the entire gang,” Nat protested.

“Whatever. You were _tied_ to a chair. You know what I can do when I’m tied to a chair? Sit. That’s what I can do. But anyway, continue.” Darcy waved her hand.

Natasha’s curls bounced as she shook her head. “You know I can teach you how to use a chair as a weapon, right? Whether you are tied to it or not.”

“Um, yes please. Sign me up for the Natasha Romanoff chair-bound fight training. Oh my God, could you just see Hill’s face?”

“She’d be somewhat impressed,” Nat allowed.

“Are you kidding?” Darcy said incredulously. “She’d clear me for solo missions.”

“No. She wouldn’t.” 

“She might.”

“Definitely not.” Nat suddenly frowned, eyes narrowing. “Hold on. How did we get on the subject of me training you? Are you using verbal evasion tactics on me? Was all that subterfuge???”

Darcy blinked guilelessly. “What? Nooooooo. It totally wasn't.”

“Yes it was.”

There was pause, and then she said, “Yes it was, and you didn’t catch on for like two minutes. In my defense, you were the one who taught me those verbal evasion techniques.”

“I'm not sure if I should be proud, or appalled. Either way, I made a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“Too late.” Darcy flashed her a huge smile. “I’m already part spysassin. You can’t take it back now.”

“Maybe Roanoke isn’t that far after all,” Natasha said. 

“You’re not going to kill me, you love me too much,” Darcy replied. “And anyway, I don’t think I’m ready for the sisterly chat yet. Not about Bucky. It’s too…” She paused, trying to think of what word she wanted to use.

“New?”

“That too, but I was thinking more along the lines of special. As in, special to me. Which I realize sounds incredibly cheesy, but whatever. I really like him. Actually, I probably _more_ than really like him, and right now I just want to sort of process that without picking it apart.”

“Fair enough,” Nat said. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think special sounds cheesy at all. It sounds like the kind of thing you protect, and I don’t blame you.”

“Seriously? You’re just letting it go?”

“I’m just letting it go.” Natasha tilted her head slightly, eyes full of warmth. “Because that need to protect what you have? I know exactly how that feels.”

“Steve?”

“Steve.”

Darcy looked over at her grinned. “Did you ever think you’d be dating a genuine American fossil?”

“No. Did you?”

“Never. Well, that might be a lie. I did have a really elaborate fantasy about having a sugar daddy when my college loans came due, but other than that, no.”

“You know, I assume the age thing is a technicality,” Natasha said. “Theoretically, Steve’s younger than I am.”

“Do you have the actual math on that? Because if so, I’d like to see it,” Darcy replied. “Is it like dog years in reverse?”

Natasha was prevented from answering by a noisy clattering sound. She and Darcy both turned to face the window just in time to see a shower of pebbles ricochet off the glass.

“Are they seriously throwing stones at the window like teenage boys trying to get their girlfriends to sneak out after curfew?” Darcy drew the curtain back a little, looking down at Steve and Bucky standing in the courtyard below. 

It was close to dusk, and they were standing in shadows, but Darcy could make out a flash of metal as Bucky thrust his hands into his pockets. She could also hear their voices, and boisterous laughter. 

“See? I told you their age is a technicality,” Nat said just as another handful of stones glanced off the glass. 

“What do you think the odds are that they’ll break a window if we make them sweat it out for much longer?” she asked.

“High.”

“Right. I’m going to say preventing that is key.” Darcy reached for her spangly little clutch. “How’s my lipstick?”

Natasha gave her a cursory glance while giving her curls a final fluff in the mirror. “Perfect. Let’s go.”

Two sets of heels clacked down the staircase and across the foyer as they headed for the doors that led to the courtyard behind the house. Once they were outside, Natasha turned and locked the door, dropping the key into her purse. They weren’t five steps out when they heard a loud wolf-whistle come from the direction of Steve and Bucky. 

Nat rolled her eyes. “Believe it or not, that was my fossil just then. Are you sure Buenos Aires isn't the way to go here?” she said to Darcy.

“I don’t know,” Darcy replied doubtfully. “Remember how Steve tracked down Bucky? Imagine both of them coming for us. We wouldn’t even have time to get a decent drink before they were whizzing down from a stolen helicarrier on zip lines. Actually, Steve would probably just jump. We can’t have them landing in the middle of some outdoor cafe and scaring all the patrons.”

“You’re taking me to an outdoor cafe? Romantic.”

“Of course I am. Have you seen how hot you are? Like I’m not going to show that off.”

The boys had started towards them by point. Darcy almost tripped over her new, fabulous shoes when she finally got a good look at Bucky. He looked gorgeous. Both he and Steve were wearing new suits. Darcy had no idea how they could have gotten them tailored in such a short time, but there was no way they fit like that without it. That wasn’t what brought her up short, though. It was his hair. 

His hair, which was no longer framing his face in long, untamed strands. Instead it was neatly trimmed, shorter on the sides, longer and stylishly tousled on top. When Bucky saw her expression he stopped as well, clearing his throat nervously. Darcy swallowed, looking up at the suddenly apprehensive blue-gray eyes staring back at her. 

“You cut your hair,” she said.

“Yeah.” Bucky ducked his head. “Steve and I, we went to a barber. I thought, you know, maybe you’d like it if I cleaned up a little. Was I wrong?”

“You shaved too.” Somewhere off in the periphery of her mind she could hear Steve ironically humming Shave and a Haircut as he and Natasha strolled to the other end of the courtyard to give them some privacy. The rest of Darcy’s attention was completely absorbed by Bucky. 

“The barber did that.” He smiled faintly, rubbing his hand over his jaw. “Haven’t had a straight razor shave in forever. Even paid to get my shoes shined, not that they needed it, but it felt right.”

For some reason a lump kept trying to form in Darcy’s throat, and she could feel the corners of her eyes starting to prickle. Over a haircut. Except it was pretty clear it wasn’t just a haircut.

“So, funny story, you look a lot like this one really pretty guy in my tenth grade American history book,” she said. 

“Oh yeah? Well you… You look like everything that guy ever wanted, doll.” Bucky’s gaze slowly traveled from the simple victory roll in her hair to the Louboutins on her feet. “This guy too. Yellow shoes, huh?”

“They were a gift from this spider I know.”

“Let me guess, the spider has a tall, reckless idiot for a boyfriend who doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.”

“That would be the one,” she said. “I see you’ve met them.”

“Once or twice. Nothing formal.” He took a deep breath. “So, you haven’t said whether you like my hair or not. Does that mean you don’t? I know you liked the man bun thing…but I thought maybe...”

Darcy stretched up, letting her fingers glide through the newly cut strands. Bucky’s eyes slid shut, words trailing off as he relaxed into her tentative touch. She continued until her fingertips were teasing through the feather-soft hairs at the back of his head. 

“I think you just stole Nat’s title as sexiest Avenger, and I’m three seconds away from calling off the date and taking you straight to bed, Sergeant Barnes,” she replied, and he opened his eyes, lips curving up into a relieved smile. “The more important question is, do _you_ like it?” 

“The truth? I feel a little naked, but I also feel like I might’ve put something behind me. If I grow it back now, it will be something I choose, not something leftover from a time where I didn’t have any choice.”

“I’m going to say that’s what matters, then. Not what anyone else thinks. Even me.”

“But you like it?” he prodded.

“Now you’re just fishing for compliments,” Darcy said. “Don’t we have somewhere to be?”

“We do, but I have something for you that I should probably give you first.” Bucky reached inside his suit jacket, and pulled out a thin, rectangular box. “Natasha wouldn’t tell me what color your dress was, but I figured this would go with anything.”

He opened it to reveal a delicate silver chain with a charm shaped like a sand dollar hanging from it. 

“This way we both have one,” he said. “What do you think?”

Darcy was stunned out of speaking for a moment. The amount of thought he’d put into the gift threw her for a loop, and made her melt all at the same time. 

“I think you should put it on me,” she told him, turning around and holding up her hair so he could fasten it around her neck.

Darcy could feel the silver links, cool on her skin as he fastened the clasp behind her, and straightened the chain, smoothing it out around her neck.

“Looks good on you,” he said, when she turned back around to face him.

“It better, it’s my new favorite piece of jewelry ever.” She held the little charm out, looking at it for a moment before tugging him down by his lapels so she could kiss him, and whisper in his ear, “You’re totally getting thanked for this later. Like, _seriously_ thanked.”

Bucky grinned. “How soon is later?”

“Not soon enough,” she said. “Come on, Bucky. I think Steve and Natasha are starting to get restless.” She nodded at where the other couple was studiously ignoring them while making over-obvious small talk.

“Oh, are we leaving then?” Steve asked, eyebrows raised. “I thought maybe we were just going to spend the entire evening hanging around this courtyard.”

“You know, for a guy who invited himself and his girl along on my date, you sure are being a pain in the ass about it,” Bucky shot back.

Steve walked over, and slung his arm around Bucky’s shoulders. “I’m just here to cover your back in case things go south, pal.”

Bucky snorted. “Yeah. You’re a real friend, Rogers. I couldn’t possibly handle dinner at a jazz club on my own.”

“Argentina,” Natasha muttered to Darcy as she walked by on her way to the wrought iron gates at the end of the courtyard. “I hear that cafe calling me.”

“What’s that about Argentina?” Steve asked.

“It’s where Natasha and I are going to elope if you two don’t stop acting like a pair of thirteen year old boys,” Darcy said dryly.

Bucky ducked out from under Steve’s arm, and caught Darcy’s hand in his. “You got nothing to worry about. We’ll be on our best behavior, right Stevie?”

“Forgive me if I find that less than reassuring,” Natasha remarked. She unlatched the gate, pushing it open so they could spill out onto the sidewalk. “You forget I’ve seen you two in action.”

“Me too.” Darcy interjected. 

“Did you just hear that?” Bucky asked Steve.

“Yes I did, Buck. Yes I did. You’d think by now they’d have a little faith in us.” Steve shook his head sadly.

“I’m wounded, girls,” Bucky said, pressing his free hand over his heart. “I really am.”

“Oh my God, you aren’t going to be doing this all night, are you?” Darcy asked.

“Nah, not all night. Gonna be doing you later,” he replied in a low voice, leaning in close so only she could hear it. At least she _hoped_ only she could hear it. Especially since Steve suddenly seemed to be having a hard time composing his features. 

Darcy felt like a change of subject might be in order since her stupid body had immediately responded to his comment like the utter traitor that it was. “So, shopping today was interesting,” she said. 

“Oh yeah? I wondered what happened after we got thrown out.”

She laughed. They hadn’t exactly been thrown out. It was just that Natasha’s friend Anna had turned out to be an unstoppable force of nature wrapped in saucy, Southern charm, and she decided the shopping trip was girls only. Not thirty minutes after their arrival in New Orleans, she’d commandeered their plans, and hustled them down to the boutiques on Magazine Street. They didn’t even stop at the house first. Darcy had never seen anyone control both Steve and Bucky at the same time so effortlessly. 

“Now don’t ya’ll worry ‘bout a thing,” Anna declared, looping an arm through each of theirs, and steering them towards the door like she wrangled super-soldiers for a living. “I can assure you, we girls were born knowing how to do this. You’ve got your own shopping to do. Suits. Both of you. No arguments. My friend Simon owns the shop two doors down. Tell him Anna LeBeau sent you, and he’ll know just what to do. Go on, shoo.” 

With that, she pushed them through the door. As soon as they were out on the sidewalk, Anna dusted off her hands with a smile. “I thought they’d never leave. As if we needed their help. The day a man chooses what I wear is the day they put me in my grave. Now, tell me, what did y’all have in mind? ‘Cause they’ve got pretty much anything you could think of here, including unmentionables.”

That pretty much summed up the entire shopping trip. Anna ran the show, and Darcy ended up leaving with her new dress, and a second bag full of the aforementioned unmentionables. One look at the frothy, coral silk and ivory lace set, and Darcy was sold. Just knowing she was wearing them under her dress made her feel sexier.

True to his word, Bucky had paid for everything. Darcy was waved off by the shopkeeper as soon as she got to the cash register. 

“You’re already taken of, hon,” she said, as Darcy started to reach into her purse for her wallet. “The guy who was in here with you earlier said to let you get whatever you wanted, and it was on him.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. On one hand having a guy pay for stuff like her clothes felt weird, like she should be lounging around a penthouse apartment wearing a nightgown trimmed in marabou feathers, and singing at a nightclub called the Hot Box or something. On the other hand, she had a brand new dress and her bank account was still intact. Darcy finally decided to go with letting Bucky pay just that once, but she was absolutely getting him something really awesome before the trip was over to even the score. 

Which reminded her…

“Thanks for paying today,” she said to him. “It was sweet. Unnecessary, but nice.”

He shrugged unconcernedly. “Like I said, I’m just collecting paychecks right now with nothing to spend the money on. And you keep buying me food, so I thought I’d try to make it up to you.”

“Are you saying paying for my dress is your way of working off a couple orders of fries, and a fried dough?”

“I’m saying that you don’t need to worry about it. I was happy to do it, and after a nearly a week of waiting, the dress might end up a casualty by the end of tonight. I’d have to pay you for it anyway.”

“It had better not end up as a casualty, James, or you might be next.”

“I’ll take that into consideration, Spot,” he said. “By the way, that makes six times you’ve threatened to murder me since we left New York.”

Natasha and Steve were walking a few feet ahead of them, and she glanced back over her shoulder to say, “Try not kill him before we eat. These reservations weren’t easy to get.”

“Don’t worry,” Darcy said. “I suck at follow through when it comes to murdering him.”

The walk to the jazz club where they had the reservations was a short one. Once inside, the hostess seated them at a snug, half-moon shaped booth in the middle of the room. There was a candle in a hurricane glass on the table which she lit it for them after handing over the menus. The room was buzzing with laughter and conversation from the other patrons, and a band was already in place on the stage tuning up. A lone trumpet player ran through the scales, while the drummer tapped the hi-hat and thumped the kickdrum a few times.

The atmosphere was noisy, and discordant, and filled with expectant energy. Steve had his eyes on the band, the corner of his mouth turning up as the girl at the piano picked out a few notes of Do Nothin’ Till You Hear from Me. 

“You want something to drink?” Bucky asked.

Darcy scanned the drinks menu. It read like a who’s who of old timey speakeasy cocktails. “Ummm, I’ll have a pink lady,” she said, tapping her selection with her finger. “I always kind of wanted to order one of those. What are you having?”

“Tom Collins. Watch Steve. He’s gonna order a gin rickey, and nurse the damn thing all night long,” he told her. 

The waitress showed up to take their drink orders a couple minutes later, and Steve didn’t even glance down at the menu before saying, “I’ll have a gin rickey, and she’d like a Manhattan.”

“Told ya,” Bucky said. “Over seventy years and he’s still stuck on the same drink.” 

The drinks came out in record time, and they put their dinner orders in. Right around the second song, their food arrived. As usual Steve and Bucky had ordered enough for four other people besides themselves. Darcy watched them work through each plate with fascinated amazement. No matter how many times she’d seen them put away their weight in food, it always sort of blew her mind. 

Finally the food was gone, and there was nothing but their drinks and the band. Darcy was about three pink ladies in, and was feeling pretty damn peachy keen. Bucky had a line of empty glasses lined up in front of him, and a full one in his hand. Steve was still nursing the same gin rickey, just like Bucky predicted, and Natasha had switched to straight up top shelf vodka a couple drinks earlier. 

Sometime around her second cocktail, Darcy had started gravitating towards Bucky on the upholstered bench. By the time her third one was finished, she was pressed close to his side, and he had one arm resting around her shoulders. 

“Having a good time, Spot?” he asked.

“Top notch,” she replied. “What about you?”

Bucky dipped his head low so his breath tickled her ear when he spoke. “Can’t remember when I enjoyed myself more. That being said...wanna get out of here?”

“Oh God yes.”

He slid out of the curved booth, and she followed, purse in hand. Steve and Natasha looked up as they stood. 

“Leaving so soon?” Nat asked with a knowing smirk.

“Yes we are,” Darcy said, “and I’m not going to pretend you don’t know why, so yeah. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Or not,” Bucky added. 

Darcy smiled. “Or not.”

Bucky started to reach for his wallet and Steve shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Buck. This one’s on me. Now beat it. You’ve been crowding up our table for too long as it is.”

“Alright then.” Bucky took Darcy’s hand. “We’ll be seeing you.”

“See ya.” Natasha flicked her fingers in a small wave. “Try not to knock down the guest house.”

“Sorry. No promises, no guarantees,” Darcy replied as they walked away. 

They made their way through the packed room. Bucky leading the way around the close set booths until they were back out on the street. The cooler evening air outside was refreshing after the heat of the club, but there was an unmistakable tang of rain in the air, and Darcy could hear a roll of thunder in the distance. 

“Do you think it will hold out until we get back?” she asked.

Bucky looked up at the sky for a second where thick, ominous clouds hung over the city. “I don’t know, doll. Right now it looks like we’re gonna go swimming.”

No sooner had he spoken, than Darcy felt the first drop hit her cheek. Bucky must have felt one too, because he quickly shed his jacket, holding it up over both of them like a makeshift umbrella as the skies opened up and it began to pour. 

“I hope you’ve got a plan!” she shouted over the noisy pattering. “Because I’ve got nothing.”

He glanced down at her, and then up at the street ahead. “See that overhang?”

Darcy followed his line of sight to a long second story porch over a bookshop. “Yep. Are we making a run for it?”

“You bet we are,” he replied. “Go!”

They took off at the same time. Bucky kept his suit jacket held out over them both in an effort to stave off the brunt of the storm. Darcy did her best to manage in her new heels, dodging around the swiftly amassing puddles while holding onto his upraised arm for balance. Halfway there they both started laughing, and by the time they safely out of the rain she was leaning into his chest giggling uncontrollably with her arms wrapped around his waist. Bucky had one arm around her, holding her close as his whole body shook with laughter. 

“Some date this turned out to be,” he said to her, giving his wet jacket a shake. “Hope you’re not cold. I’ve got nothing to put on you if you are. Unless you want my shirt. Although it’s not too dry either.”

Darcy got herself together long enough to take in his half-soaked shirt from where the jacket hadn’t covered him, and started laughing all over again. “Oh my God, look at you. You totally sacrificed yourself for my dress.”

“It was worth it,” he told her. 

“Was it?”

“You kidding me? I wish you could see yourself right now. I’m kind of torn between wanting to keep you in that dress forever, and wanting to rip it off you right here on a public street corner.”

“Wait until you see what’s under it,” she said. “I think that might help make the decision easier, but it’s just a guess.”

“Yeah?” He slid a finger under her chin, tilting it up. “What’s under it?”

“I’m not at liberty to share that intel at this time,” Darcy responded. “You’ll just have to do some reconnaissance on your own.”

“I see.” He smiled, pulling his bottom lip through his teeth in a sensual drag that had her heart fluttering madly. “Good thing my training covered that.”

She totally would have had a smart comeback if her brain hadn’t checked out while she was staring at his mouth. Fortunately it _had_ checked out, which meant she was forced to kiss him instead. Darcy felt like it wasn’t such a bad thing overall. Her brain would probably show up again later, and meanwhile Bucky was expertly kissing her back, so she was positively copacetic with the situation.

“I need to get us back to the guest house,” he said, pulling away with a reluctant groan. “Otherwise I’m gonna be up your skirt in this doorway.”

Darcy stretched up, searching his lips out again. “Right now I’m okay with the doorway.”

“Don’t tempt me, doll. I’m hanging by a thread as it is.”

She sighed, and settled back on her heels. “I think it’s actually raining harder. Are we running the rest of the way, because I’m not sure my new shoes will survive it.” 

Darcy gazed sorrowfully at the brave Louboutins. They’d hardly even gotten to know each other. She would miss them. Maybe she could hold a memorial service. 

“Well we can’t have that,” Bucky replied. “I got plans for those shoes.” After what looked like a moment’s deliberation he shrugged. Then he looked down at her with a smile. “If you had to choose between the fancy hair or the shoes, which would win?”

“There’s no contest. The shoes.”

“That makes my decision easy,” Bucky said. He handed her his sodden suit jacket. 

“Why are you giving me your jacket?” The words were hardly out of her mouth before he scooped her up in his arms. “You’re carrying me?”

“That’s the plan. Hold on tight. I’m a little faster than your average sprinter.”

“I know. I’ve seen you run already, and… _Oh my holy fucking Thor_ …WATCH OUT FOR THAT PUDDLE!”

She was referring to the stream that was running along the upcoming curb. It looked like something small cars could have been washed away in. Bucky cleared it easily, landing on the opposite curb like there was only a couple feet between them. Darcy whooped loudly, and his face lit up with joyful exhilaration. 

“What’s your next trick?” she asked. “Jumping over a car?”

He grinned. “Nah. Then I’d just be showing off.”

“ _That_ would be showing off? What do you call this?” 

“I’m a strategist. These are just standard escape tactics to keep us from drowning.” Bucky ducked down an alley to avoid an intersection, cut down a sidestreet, and they popped out right across from where they were staying.

Darcy figured he’d put her down now that they were at the wrought iron fence surrounding the courtyard. Instead he just hitched her up in one arm so he could unlatch the gate. He did the same thing a few moments later to unlock the door of the guest house, pushing it open with his shoulder, and kicking it shut again once they were inside. 

The breath caught in Darcy's throat for moment as she realized this was it. No interruptions. No tents. No Natasha and Steve close enough to overhear their every move. Just her, and Bucky, and two whole floors of flat surfaces at their disposal.

Hell. To. The. Yes.

Her shifted her in his arms, gently lowering her to the floor. “How are those shoes, Lewis?”

“I think you saved them,” Darcy said. She glanced in the silver gilt mirror hanging over the console table with a sigh. “My hair is a total loss, though.”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed.” Bucky slid the hairpins holding the drenched victory roll free, setting them in a bowl on the table. 

The thick coil of hair unfurled, and tumbled down to brush wetly against Darcy’s neck. He ran his fingers through the strands, pulling them away from her face. 

“I’d like to take you upstairs,” he said, gazing at her in the mirror. “Maybe get out of these wet clothes and into a hot shower. What do you say, doll?”

“That sounds kind of perfect.”

“Yeah?” Bucky’s head dipped down so his lips could ghost softly along her shoulder. “Here’s what we’ll do. You go on up, and I’ll join you in say...five minutes?”

Five minutes? Darcy wanted him to come upstairs with her _now_. What was the five minutes all about? Then it hit her. He was giving her time to powder her nose or whatever. Dating a sexy fossil was seriously adorable. Plus it occurred to Darcy that after three decent sized drinks with dinner, and running all that way in the rain, having time to powder her nose was probably a good thing. Five minutes. She was down with that.

“Okay. I’ll see you up there, Sergeant.” 

“You bet you will, doll.” 

Halfway up the winding staircase, Darcy turned back to look at him, and found him standing where she’d left him, watching her with both hands in his pockets, and a fond smile playing over his lips. She put a little more sashay into her walk in response, and his quiet chuckle of acknowledgment followed her as she reached the hall.

“Five minutes, Bucky. I’m timing you,” she called back to him with her hand on the doorknob to the bedroom. 

“There’s no way I’m gonna be late for you, sweetheart. Believe me. I’m already having a hard time not chasing you up those stairs.”

Once she was inside the room, Darcy dropped her clutch on the nightstand, and leaned back against the closed door. Okay. Five minutes. Nose powdering. She was on it.

And then they were going to have so much sex.

It was a damn fine evening all around. New Orleans rocked. Darcy really needed to get moving on those five minutes though, they were ticking away while she was busy hanging out by the door.

The adjoining bathroom was as pretty as the rest of the guest house. Everything was shades of white with seaglass hued accents. Wide marble tiles covered the floor, an elegant porcelain pedestal sink occupied the wall under cluster of mirrors in pale green frames, and there was a claw foot tub next to the large walk in shower. 

Darcy got through the nose powdering in record time. She even managed brush out her hair, and wash off the remnants of her makeup that survived the rain. Then she stood in front of the mirrors briefly wondering if she should put some back on. Her final decision was to leave it off. It wasn’t like Bucky hadn’t seen her without it. She had a warm glow in her cheeks anyway from all the camping at the beach they’d done, and the fact that he’d suggested showering kind of made it a moot point.

After that she debated on turning on the taps for the shower. If she did, the water could warm up, and it wouldn’t be something they’d have to stop to do in the moment. Darcy was just stepping back out into the bedroom after turning it on, when Bucky appeared in the doorway. He closed the door behind him with a soft click.

She paused, eyes roving over his still damp shirt, undone tie, and rumpled hair. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he said, gaze intent on her as well. 

“I started the shower,” she announced.

“I can hear it.” Bucky looked at her for a moment longer, and then ran the fingers of one hand through his hair, disheveling it further. “Is it crazy to admit I’m a little nervous?”

“Nope. Me too. There’s been a lot of build up.”

“Damn right, there has.” 

“So here’s what I’m thinking.” She took a deliberate step towards him. “I’m going to come over there and get you out of that shirt, and whatever happens after that happens.”

He smirked as she came closer. “I think we both know what’s going to happen after that.”

“Sex requires taking off more than just your shirt. Unless you’ve forgotten how this works,” she teased.

“Pretty sure I remember,” Bucky said. “You let me know if I miss anything important.”

Darcy’s fingers started undoing the buttons down the front of his shirt. When she got done there, she reached for each of his wrists in turn to open the cuffs, and then slid the whole thing off. “I know I’ve told you how sexy you are, but seriously, you without a shirt on sort of breaks me every time.”

“Despite this mess you mean.” He gestured at the puckered lines marring the skin around the edge of his cybernetic arm, mouth twisting a bit as he spoke.

“What? These?” She traced her finger over the scars radiating out from the metal, and then followed its path with her lips. “Bucky, at some point you’re going to have to accept the fact that I find all of you hot, and not just the parts you think I should.”

He swallowed heavily, hand coming up to cup the back of her head. “Darce…”

“We’ve all got scars. Not just you. Get me out of this dress and I’ll show you every single one of mine.”

Anything else Darcy planned to say was cut off by him firmly covering her mouth with his own. They slowly worked their way across the room, his fingers working down the zipper of her dress, and hers unfastening his pants. Somewhere around the bed Bucky kicked off his shoes, and her dress was a forgotten puddle of fabric on the floor when they bumped into the doorjamb around the bathroom door with a loud thud. 

“Ow!” Darcy winced, and then started to laugh. “So I think we found the wall.”

“Jesus,” he said, pulling back for a second to see if she was damaged. “You okay?”

“What? Yes. Wait. Why are your pants still on?” she asked. “I feel like getting them off is instrumental to our plan here. Isn’t it?”

Bucky’s eyes, which had been wide with concern, filled with amusement. “You sure you aren’t concussed or something?”

“I’m not a doctor, but I’m going to go with a firm probably not. Let’s get back to the thing we were doing before we found the wall.”

“Good idea.”

“I know, right? Come here.” 

Darcy pulled his face back down to hers, and things got back on track pretty quick. His mouth left hers to work across her jaw, raising goosebumps as he continued down her neck. He reached behind her to unfasten her bra, metal skimming skin. Darcy slipped her arms free, and let it fall to the floor.

Their height difference came into play moments later when he reached her chest. Instead of letting it stop him, Bucky knelt down, dropping kisses on her in a random pattern as he hooked his fingers in the lace edge of her underwear, and slid them down her legs. She stepped out of them, the spiked heels of her shoes making quiet clicks on the hardwood floor. His expression when he looked up at her sent shivers cascading all over her skin.

“How do you feel about detours?” he asked. 

“I’m open to them,” she replied.

Bucky reached out, clasping both hands around her ankles so he could coax her feet further apart. “Good, because we’re about to take one.”

His hands moved lazily up her legs. Once they got to her hips, he tugged forward, pulling them away from wall. Then his lips were on her, and Darcy could feel the soft brush of his hair tickling along her stomach as they traveled lower at a deliberately slow pace. Just before he reached where she was already wet and impatient for him, he stopped, and glanced up to meet her eyes.

“I’m gonna do something here, and you just have to trust me, okay?” he asked, warm puffs of air blowing over her flesh with every word. 

She nodded, and he lifted one of her legs so it was resting on his shoulder. He turned to nuzzle the sensitive skin on the inside, and then began to do the same thing with her other leg. Darcy instinctively clutched at the wall, looking for something to hold onto, and Bucky halted. 

“Trust me,” he repeated. “You aren’t falling. Not while I have you.” He waited for her to relax, and then straightened up with his hands cupped under her thighs. She could hear the slide of each plate in his arm as they locked into place when he got her where he wanted her. “Gonna get loud for me, Darce?”

“I think that’s kind of up to…” Her train of thought immediately stalled out as he ran the flat of his tongue up the length of her slit. “ _Oh my God!_ Yes. I am.”

He licked her again, watching her face the whole time. “How loud?”

“They’ll probably hear me in Biloxi. 

“I was just going for the Garden District,” Bucky replied. His tongue swept over her once more, and she gasped. “But I’ll take Biloxi.” 

There was no teasing in his technique like there had been the other night in the tent, just Bucky going in for the kill for all he was worth. It wasn’t long before Darcy was arching against the wall with her hands palms braced flat on the smooth surface. She was also doing a lot of moaning, interspersed with some completely undignified begging. Then he did the thing he’d done the other night that made her go crazy, and she tangled her fingers in his close cropped hair.

“Oh my _fuck_ , yeah,” she whimpered, feeling her body start to wind up tight as she got closer. “ _Please_ …”

“Want something, doll?” Bucky asked.

“You...you know what. Please, Bucky, I’m so close.”

“Come on, Darce, I can hardly hear you,” he said. “Thought you said Biloxi.”

“ _BUCKY!_ ” 

“There’s my girl,” he chuckled, giving her what she wanted. 

Seconds later she was coming, body arched tight into the wall. Darcy wasn’t sure if they heard her in Mississippi or not, but the self-satisfied look on Bucky’s face when he finally released her made it clear that he had heard...and loved every moment of it.

He gently set each of her feet back on the floor, removing her shoes one at a time as he did so. Her legs were still shaking, and Bucky kept his hands on her as he stood up, supporting her weight. 

“That was… Okay, I don’t have words for how that was, Super, amazingly, intensely spectacular comes to mind, but it doesn’t really do it justice,” Darcy said. “Also, we still have not gotten your pants off. How is that even possible?”

“Detour,” he replied. 

“A magnificent fucking detour,” she amended. “We should take it straight into Showersexville.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit there,” Bucky said.

“We _tried_ to visit there. Remember?”

“Yeah, well, this time nothing is in our way.”

Darcy reached behind her to open the bathroom door, and cocked an eyebrow at him suggestively. “Oh look, the door’s open and everything.”

She turned on her heel, and walked straight into the shower. Almost as soon as she’d gotten under the hot spray, Bucky’s arms wrapped around her from behind. He ground against her, the hard evidence of his arousal trapped between their bodies. 

“That was fast,” she said.

“Incentive conditioning,” he replied.

Darcy shifted around in his arms to face him. “Was that part of your training?”

“Not until I met you.” 

Apparently it only took five words to knock Darcy flat. Well, five words, and the sickening realization that Bucky’s HYDRA training had probably been just the opposite. A pained shadow had flickered through his eyes when he spoke. It was only there for a nanosecond, but she’d seen it.

“Bucky Barnes, your life is going to be all incentives from here on out. Starting with this one.”

She simultaneously stretched up to kiss him, and closed her fingers around his straining length at the same time. His muffled gasp of response set fire racing through her veins. 

It was only increased moments later when Bucky murmured against her lips, “You’re driving me crazy, doll. I never wanted anything the way I want you right now.”

“So what are you waiting for?” she whispered back.

“Nothing.”

He backed her into the cool tile wall, and lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his hips.  
Her hand was still stroking him. It was a simple thing to tip her hips up, and position him at her entrance. Just as Darcy was going to take him inside, he stopped her.

“Give me one second. I want…want to remember. Want to see this, see you. Okay?”

She nodded, teeth biting desperately into her bottom lip. Bucky nodded back, expression just as desperate, and began to push into her, inch by inch, with his eyes on hers the whole time. Darcy saw the very moment his jaw went slack, felt the tremor roll through him when he was finally as deep as he could go. She wrapped her legs tightly around him, holding him close as they both exhaled.

Bucky’s lips twitched up into a half-smile, and a shaky laugh escaped them. She laughed too. Whether it was out of nerves, or the sheer relief of making it this far at last, Darcy wasn’t sure.

“You feel so fucking good,” he said. “ _Christ_.”

“You too,” she replied breathlessly. “God. I’m trying really hard not to get the giggles right now. I feel like we’re in serious danger of me laughing through this.”

“Really?” Bucky’s eyebrows raised, and Darcy caught the faintest glimmer of intent in his eyes just before the fingers of his right hand danced over her ribs.

She threw her head back, water droplets pinging off her face as she laughed and squirmed in his arms. “Stop! Stop!”

“Just getting it out of your system,” he said innocently.

“Oh, is that what this is?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Bucky leaned in, tongue skimming over her lips for a second. Then he drew back, eyes sparkling with mischief as he gauged her reaction.

“Are you always this much trouble in bed?” Darcy demanded.

“Search me, doll, but then again, we aren’t in bed, are we?”

“No,” she said, “we’re not. Get back over here, Bucky. My mouth misses you.”

Darcy slipped her fingers in the wet hair at the back of his head and tugged him forward. He came willingly, smile sliding off his face when she used the leverage to rock her hips against his. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, thrusting back in response.

“Mmm,” she replied. “Fuck, _yes_.”

The mood made a rapid switch from playful to passionate. Bucky deepened the kiss, tongue licking into her mouth as he pinned her to the wall with a forceful roll of his hips. Then he was lifting her higher, ducking his head down so he could reach her breasts. The angle caused his thrusts to be more shallow, but he made the most of it, and the effort left Darcy needy and whimpering for more.

“Wanna make you come again, Darce,” he said, teeth scraping over her pulse point. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

“I need you hard and deep, and I’ll probably have to touch myself. Is that okay?”

“Are you kidding, sweetheart? Just tell me if I get in the way of your fingers.” He snapped his hips into her. “Good?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Perfect. Just like that.”

He nodded once, and set a pace of rough, hard thrusts, while she got her hand down between them. For a moment she just worked on clearing her head. It would never happen if she couldn’t focus on Bucky, and the urgent sensations her own fingers were creating with every stroke of his body inside her. It reminded her of playing a record. Nothing at first but silence as the arm swings over, and the head lowers, speakers hissing with static. Then the needle catches the groove, and everything falls into place. Darcy had to catch that groove, and she did, finding the rhythm with an ease that she couldn’t remember ever happening with anyone else. 

Her muscles started to ripple around him, body tensing in expectation. “Bucky,” she gasped.

“I know, I can feel it. Come on, doll. I’m right there with you.”

The feeling grew, spreading outwards and eclipsing everything else as Darcy surrendered to it. She was aware of his skin on hers as they fucked, could hear the patter of the water, and sounds of pleasure they were making, but they were all just outside the storm of sensation as her release crested. Reality was just creeping back in when she felt Bucky shudder, moaning low as his thrusts faltered and he came hard inside her.

Both of them clung tightly to each other when it was over. Darcy felt him kiss her forehead, then her cheek, lips grazing her ear as he rested his head next to hers. It took a few minutes for their breathing to even out, but they finally untangled. Bucky shut the water off, and Darcy found some towels.

They did eventually end up in the bed, although not a lot of sleeping happened. In fact, it was nearly dawn before she drifted off, spent and happy with his arms around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for the next chapter, people. Rock makes a triumphant return...and that's all I'm gonna say without spoiling things.


	14. Ferry Kissing Day Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nope. Nope, nope, nope. I'm not spoiling a damn thing. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys. I don't even know what to say. This is the end. FOR REAL.
> 
> I have had the best time writing this story. THE. BEST. TIME. A big part of that reason has been the amazing response from all of you. Thank you so much for every single review, and kudo, and hit. I'm incredibly grateful to all of you for taking a chance on my first foray into this ship. I've said it before, and I will say it again, there is nothing on Earth like writing fic, because the way you get to interact with people is the fucking best ever. I love it, and I love all of you. <3 <3 <3 Also, I should probably say I could not have written this without Anniemar. She's is the chocolate to my peanut butter, and the Darcy to my (flailing, absentminded) Jane. rlw0810 has been an amazing help too. Kisses to you, woman. Thank you for listening to me whine. ;)
> 
> ********************************************

It was well into the afternoon when Darcy finally stirred. Bucky was spooned up behind her, left arm encircling her ribs on top of the blankets. He could feel her breathing pattern change as she awoke, and tugged her in closer, nuzzling against her shoulder.

“You’re awake,” she said softly.

“Have been,” he answered. “Just waiting on you.”

Moments later she stretched, body curving into his, and discovered other parts of him were wide awake as well. “Not just awake, but standing at attention, Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky grinned into her skin. “I got no idea what you’re talking about, doll.”

“Really?” She reached back to run her fingers over the heavy erection prodding her back. He hissed, metal hand closing around the duvet as he arched into her touch. “How long have you been up?"

“Considering what you’re doing right now, that feels like a loaded question,” he replied. 

Darcy turned just enough that he could catch her smile. “ _Something's_ loaded, that's for sure. Seriously, though. Were you just lying there watching me drool, or what?”

“Nah. It hasn’t been that long. I was thinking about fucking you awake, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with that.”

“I’d be majorly okay with that,” she said. “In fact, I’m giving you carte blanche to fuck me awake any time you want. Especially if you get home late from a mission or something.”

His chest squeezed tight as the implication of her words hit him. In one easy sentence, Darcy gave them a future. A future where he had access to her bed, her home, and her heart. It left Bucky a little stunned, and he fell silent for a few seconds. It was long enough that Darcy noticed, and rolled over onto her back so she could see him. 

“What?” she asked, 

“Nothing,” he replied.

“Nothing what?”

“It’s just what you said about me coming home from missions. That's all.”

She tilted her head, brow furrowing in confusion. “That you can fuck me awake?”

“No. Although that’s definitely something I’m thinking about, but it’s more that you’re talking like you’re gonna want me around in the future."

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s everything, doll," Bucky replied. "You know what you know, and you didn't run screaming. You still want me.”

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised by that. I’ve been all yours since the first time you ever called me Spot,” Darcy said, the sweetest smile he'd ever seen turning up the corners of her lips. “God, I want to kiss you, but I haven’t brushed my teeth yet, and there isn’t a germ-eradicating screwdriver to drink in sight.”

“Is that all you’re worried about?" Bucky rolled his eyes, and then leaned down to rub the tip of his nose against hers. "Toothbrushes and screwdrivers can go fuck themselves, because I’m gonna kiss you anyway."

He caught her jaw in his hand, angling her face so he could do just that. She fought to keep it close-mouthed and chaste for exactly 3.2 seconds. Bucky was counting. The surrender came with a sharp little gasp when he cupped one of her breasts in his cybernetic hand, thumb circling nipple. Darcy’s gasp turned into a moan as he shifted until he was hovering above her, and pushed her legs apart with his knees.

“We’re gross people who have rampant sex with morning breath, aren’t we?” she said once he released her mouth. “Dental hygienists across the nation are weeping over our wanton ways.”

“Let ‘em cry. I want to make love to my girl.” Bucky rocked forward, body lining up with hers, and then he paused. “You aren’t too sore, are you? I don’t want to hurt you. That’s uh...that’s not me bragging, in case you were wondering,” he said with a sheepish duck of his head.

“It _should_ be you bragging,” Darcy replied. “I was there last night. You totally have a reason to brag. So do I, actually. I can’t believe you never did reverse cowgirl…”

“And _I_ can't believe it's called that,” he interrupted. “Who the hell named that position anyway?”

“The good citizens of Wyoming?” she offered, and Bucky snorted. “Anyway, I am sore, but like...it’s a good sore. Trust me. Every time I move today, I’m going to remember what it feels like to have you inside me, how your eyes go so dark when I’m moving on top of you, and the way you blush all across here…” She brushed a fingertip lightly along the tops of his cheekbones, and bridge of his nose. “...just before you come.”

“I don’t blush,” he scoffed.

“You do. It’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to see it again.” Darcy took him in her hand again, teasing the head of his cock over her clit, and making him shudder. “So what do you say, Bucky? Think you can handle that?”

“Yeah. I can handle that,” he said. His lips brushed over hers softly, relishing the way she shivered beneath him. “Gonna be so gentle with you, doll. So sweet.”

Bucky wrapped his fingers around hers where she was still stroking him against herself. He guided himself further down, tracing lazily around her entrance before pushing inside in one unhurried motion. Darcy’s hand moved away, reaching up to grip the edge of her pillow as he steadily withdrew.

Just as he’d begun to thrust back in, a soft little whimper in the back of her throat gave him pause. Bucky’s hips stilled, and he looked down at her in question. “Darce? You okay?”

“I’m the best kind of okay,” she replied. Her body rolled languorously under his. “You?”

“Hating every second,” Bucky told her. “I’m about to go downstairs and get myself breakfast.”

“I knew it,” Darcy said. “Oh well. Get me some coffee while you’re down there.”

Bucky rocked into her while she was speaking, and her last word ended in a squeaky gasp. 

“Although, seeing as how I’m already here,” he said. “I might as well finish.”

“It’s a solid plan,” she agreed, lips twitching with how hard she was suppressing a smile.

“Mmmm. I’m full of solid plans. Where’s your other hand?” 

Bucky searched under the blankets for a moment, seeking it out. Darcy untangled it from the sheets, and let him take it. He folded his metal fingers through hers, and tugged their joined hands up to rest next to her head. With a satisfied nod, he bent his head over hers, kissing first her forehead, then her closed eyelids, and finally her lips. 

They went quiet after that, both shifting and moving in response to the other. Each little sound and movement slowly taking Bucky apart piece by piece. She finished with her lips pressed into his shoulder. A hushed cry accompanied the tightening of her body around his, signalling her release. He gave over to his own then, letting himself stroke into her until he came with a breathless rush that left him feeling boneless and at peace.

A few moments drifted by with both of them too content to move. Darcy finally tilted her head up so she could kiss the divot in his chin, and Bucky rolled to the side, pulling her with him so he didn’t crush her with his weight. She snuggled in closer as both his arms wrapped her up in a tender embrace. 

The tranquil mood was disrupted far sooner than Bucky would have liked by the sound of an incoming text on his phone. He felt around blindly behind him until his fingers came in contact with the chirping device. Darcy squinted at the screen, reading the words Steve had sent at the same time Bucky did. 

_Natasha and I are heading down to Florida before driving back. The house is all yours for the next week, then Clint is flying down to pick you up. Anna LeBeau has directions to the rendezvous point. Have a good time. Stay out of trouble._

They’d barely finished reading it when another message came through.

_Don’t do anything stupid before you get back to New York._

Bucky stared at the sentence on his phone. “Do you see that? That cocky little shit. Thinks he’s so funny.”

He quickly typed back, _How could I do anything stupid, Rogers? You’re taking all the stupid with you._

The response was a grinning emoticon next to another one Tony Stark had personally designed that was decidedly ruder than anything you could get on a standard phone. 

Moments later Darcy’s phone chimed, and she picked it up to read _Buenos Aires is always an option. Your batons and bracelets are in your backpack already. See you in a week._

“What batons and bracelets?” Bucky asked.

“The ones I earned for playing nice with a grumpy hermit while on a road trip,” Darcy answered.

“You should have asked for a shield too,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“That’s what _I_ said!”

“Next time drive a harder bargain.”

“I will. Hey, want to go figure out breakfast?”

“What’s to figure out? You once told me any idiot can cook an egg.”

“Yes, but can any idiot make perfect french toast? Because I can,” Darcy said.

“What a coincidence,” Bucky replied. “So can I.”

“Bet you can’t.”

“Bet I can.”

“You’re on. I’m going to wipe the floor with you, too. Just wait.”

“That’s big talk from a girl who’s wearing a sheet and a smile.”

“You’re wearing the same damn sheet,” Darcy pointed out. “Anyway, last one into the shower is a complete loser who can’t make french toast.”

She jumped off the bed, dragging the sheet with her as she darted for the bathroom. Bucky sat on the bed chuckling to himself while she crossed the threshold and slammed the door behind her. A thud and a curse swiftly followed.

She’d shut the sheet in the door.

“Hey, don’t break the merchandise,” he yelled. “I just got my first crack it it last night.”

“I’m giving you the finger so hard right now,” she shouted back. “Just in case you were wondering.”

Bucky stood up and dug around in his bag for a pair of sweatpants. “You want coffee or orange juice with breakfast?”

“Both.”

“Alright, doll. I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Okay!”

The shower was just starting up as Bucky headed for the stairs. He could hear the sound of the spray change when Darcy stepped inside, and then her voice loudly singing something about how she had no time for losers, because she was the champion of the world. It was ridiculous, and hilarious, and completely Darcy. _His_ Darcy, he thought fondly. Bucky felt like maybe he hadn’t heard anything better than those two words in his whole life.

**********Two Years Later**********

Darcy was in the middle of strapping boots on over her tac pants. Her gun rested on the bench next to her, and Natasha was across the way, pulling her own rifle from one of the lockers lining the wall. It was a wicked, scary looking thing. All sleek black, and notched on the side with every kill she’d made. By comparison, Darcy’s had been bedazzled in sunshine yellow rhinestones and had the words My Other Gun is a Howling Commando painted on the barrel.

“Has Bucky seen that?” Natasha asked, nodding at the flashy rifle.

“Not since he built it for me,” Darcy replied. 

“You know it makes you a target, right?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Yeah. But we both know my boyfriend never lets anyone within half a mile of me when we play these little games. I could wave a banner that said, ‘ATTENTION TONY AND TEAM CRAZY TRAIN! DARCY LEWIS IS RIGHT HERE!’ with a giant arrow pointing at my head, while setting off a fuckton of flares giving away my location, and it wouldn’t make a difference.”

It was true. Having the world’s most accurate and deadly sniper as your significant other meant never, ever getting hit at paintball. It also meant Darcy constantly won despite the fact that she practically never got a shot off. 

Tony’s initial solution to this was to insist that Bucky and Darcy be put on separate teams. The result was that Bucky picked off every single one of his teammates and surrendered himself within the first five minutes of the game. The next attempt was to make it an every person for themselves, winner takes all, deathmatch. This went much the same way, except that Bucky shot everyone but Darcy, hunted her down where she was hiding behind a rock outcropping, shot himself with _her_ gun, and immediately declared her the winner.

Tony gave up after that. He either scheduled the games for when Bucky was away on a mission, or resigned himself to the fact that the sniper was going to stack the teams so all the spysassins were the first line of defense between everyone else and Darcy.

Clint wandered into the locker room, arrowgun in hand. “You guys coming? We’re all waiting out in the clearing.”

“Give us a little more time,” Natasha said. “I’ve got to get the rest of my gear on.”

This should have clued Darcy in that something was up. Natasha could get her gear on in about three seconds flat. However, Darcy was too busy loading her rifle to notice the exchange. She also didn’t notice the little smile Nat was hiding as she turned back to her locker, or the way she spoke softly into her comm.

Meanwhile in the clearing, Bucky was standing around with a group of their friends who were decidedly _not_ dressed for paintball. Steve was listening intently to something, and then nodded at Bucky.

“Clint just checked in. Nat’s stalling. We’ve got at least ten until they get here.”

“Has the Eagle landed yet?” Tony asked, eyes searching the sky.

Bucky’s comm crackled to life, and Sam’s voice came through. “Falcon here. The egg is in the nest. I repeat, the egg is in the nest.”

“Roger that, Sam,” Bucky said, nodding at Tony. “Everything else in place?”

“Wanda just got here with the bags. Or at least, I assume she did. They’re floating in mid-air, and I have no idea where the hell she is. Not for nothing, but that shit is creepy, man. I am never gonna get used to it,” Sam replied.

“No one said you had to get used to it, Icarus,” Wanda retorted, also through the comm. “I am confirming bag placement, James. All is as it should be. We are cleared to implement phase two.”

“You heard the lady,” Steve said. “Phase two is a go. Let’s get out of here before we give the game away.”

Everyone trooped off after that, laughing and chatting as they exited the clearing. The only one who remained behind was Steve. He waited patiently until everyone else was out of earshot. Then he clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, smile lighting up his face. 

“You figure out what you’re going to say yet?” he asked.

Bucky glanced at his friend, nervously running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I think so. Steve, what if she doesn’t…”

“She will,” Steve assured him. “The girl's crazy about you, and everyone knows it. You’ve got this, Buck. Now get out of here.” He jerked his head towards the thickest part of the woods. “I’ll keep everyone else in line until after.”

“Captain America, babysitting the Avengers,” Bucky remarked, “Quite an illustrious career you’ve got there.”

Steve shook his head ruefully. “It’s what I do best. See you soon, pal.” He sprinted after the others, and was quickly lost in the underbrush.

Bucky walked off in the opposite direction. Each step taking him closer to the future he was hoping would be his.

Back at the Avengers facility, Darcy and Natasha had just stepped out through the big double doors. Both wore paintball rifles over their shoulders, and Darcy had her mask dangling from one hand. 

“Did they start already?” she asked when she didn't spot anyone in the clearing.

Natasha spoke rapid-fire Russian into her comm, and then said, “They’re all getting into place. Bucky says meet him at the usual spot. You’ll hear the alert when we begin.” 

She started to move away, and Darcy stopped her in confusion. “Wait. Where are you going? I thought we were meeting at the usual spot.”

“ _You’re_ meeting Bucky. I’m doing a perimeter check,” Nat replied smoothly. “Don’t worry, I’ll circle around and come back to you.”

“A perimeter check?”

“Your boyfriend insisted on it. According to him, Vision breached the line last time.”

“WHAT? He was two football fields away when Clint took him out!”

Natasha shrugged. “Bucky claims it was two football fields too close.”

“That overprotective ass,” Darcy grumbled. “Okay. Fine. I’ll see you at the tree. Think you could distract him long enough this time so that I actually get a chance to shoot someone?”

“Let’s see how it plays out,” Nat said, and there was nothing else for Darcy to do but grudgingly accept.

She trudged off in search of Bucky, and Natasha went the other way, skirting the tree line. Ten minutes of walking later, and Darcy arrived at the meeting spot. There was no sign of Bucky, but two backpacks were stacked on a small pile of rocks off to one side. It was sort of weird. Weird enough that she got her gun ready as she went over to investigate.

Bucky was standing on one of the outstretching branches above Darcy’s head watching her approach, noting the facemask still gripped in her hand. Typical. How many times had he told her she needed to put that damn thing on the minute she walked into the woods? Not that it really mattered this time, but still. She halted at the edge of the meeting spot, shouldering her gun while turning around in a slow circle. Good. At least some things he’d taught her had stuck.

He waited until she had her back to him, before slowly lowering himself down behind her. A twig snapping under his boots alerted Darcy to his presence. She spun around, nearly losing her balance in the process. Bucky grabbed her around the waist, holding her upright as her facemask hit the ground with a thump.

“Don’t say it,” she quickly interjected before he could speak. “I’m not wearing my mask. I know. I’m a bad, bad, girl, and you are going to make me pay for it later.”

“You didn’t shoot me,” he responded mildly. “Doll, how did you know I wasn’t the enemy?”

“Because, if you were the enemy, you’d have shot yourself already,” Darcy told him. “I should know. It’s how every single game of paintball with us has gone for the past two years.”

“Has it been two years?” he asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 

“Almost on the dot. Next Friday is Ferry Kissing Day, remember? We’re doing Thai takeout, and watching Jaws, and...oh my God, Bucky! Please don’t tell me you forgot Ferry Kissing Day!” 

Darcy felt sick. Ferry Kissing Day was their _thing_. Last year Bucky had surprised her with the copy of Jaws they were going to watch, and a set of sand dollar earrings to go with her necklace. He also insisted that sharks could growl once more, and they had a wrestling match over it that turned into the best sex ever. They’d made plans for this Ferry Kissing Day weeks ago. If he’d forgotten about them Darcy would kind of be crushed.

Bucky felt a pang of regret for the deception. Darcy looked truly hurt, and if he hadn't been fully aware of what was coming next he would have kicked himself for it. 

“I didn’t forget,” he said, “but uh...I was thinking maybe we could change our plans.”

She glanced down at the backpacks, and then back up at him suspiciously. Her mouth opened, closed, and then she looked at the backpacks again, longer this time. They were both packed to bulging and sitting on top of that odd pile of rocks. She squinted at the rocks for a moment. Did the one on the top look familiar? _Why_ did the one on top look familiar?

Holy shit.

HOLY. SHIT. Darcy’s heart started a fluttery, skipping beat in her chest. “Is that Rock?” she asked. 

Ugh. Was that high-pitched sound her voice? She needed to get her crap together right the fuck now. Darcy took a deep breath, attempting to calm her pounding heart. It was possible this wasn’t what she thought it was. What she needed right now was to be zen as hell until she was sure.

Bucky couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Darcy was onto him. She was onto him, and she looked happy about it. “Might be,” he answered offhandedly.

“I see.” She nodded. “How did Rock get to New York?” 

“I may have taken him two years ago in Pennsylvania,” Bucky replied.

“You stole Rock?”

“I thought maybe he’d come in handy later.”

Darcy’s palms were sweating. She wiped them off surreptitiously on her pants. “Has he? Come in handy, I mean.”

“You could say that,” Bucky said. “Of course, it would be easier to show you.”

He bent down, scooping the rock up in one hand. Then he held it out to her, and carefully undid the clasp holding both halves closed in the front. Bucky had hinged it himself, after hollowing out the insides. It took months to get it just right, and he’d spent enough time in Tony’s workshop to last him a lifetime. Fucking Dum-E and and his fucking oil can. The damn robot had some sort of hard-on for Bucky’s arm, and of course Stark found the entire thing hilarious, so he’d refused to help or call it off.

Darcy’s hand shook as she lifted up Rock’s upper half to reveal a small velvet box, and a note tucked in beside it. The note read:

 _Spot,_

_Marry me in New Orleans?_

_Love,_

_Your James_

“I was hoping I could talk you into another road trip. If you want, that is,” Bucky said. He lifted the ring box out, and thumbed it open. There was a beautiful diamond solitaire inside with two tiny sand dollars etched into the platinum on either side of the setting. “Don’t worry. I booked luxury cabins the whole way down, and I packed all your favorite electronics in that bag right there. I know my girl.” 

Tears welled up in Darcy’s eyes, and she blinked them back. “So Ferry Kissing Day…?”

“Would be our anniversary for real,” he finished. “You in?”

“Bucky Barnes, I am _so_ in,” she answered. 

He dropped Rock in his hurry to get the ring on her finger. Luckily Darcy’s former fiancé bounced harmlessly away into the dry leaves on the forest floor. There was a little fumbling at first, because Darcy held out her left hand as Bucky was reaching for her right.

“I actually had it fitted for your right,” he said by way of explanation. “Since I can’t wear a wedding band on my left due to the plates shifting. I probably should have asked though. Darce, is it alright if we both wear our rings on the wrong hand? I could have yours changed if it’s not.”

“Don’t you dare change it. I think it’s perfect.” Darcy promptly gave him her right hand, doing her best to hold it steady as he slid the ring on. She laughed the whole time, tears rolling down her face that Bucky wiped away with his thumbs in between kisses. 

“You gotta stop crying, doll. Stevie is going to think I held you at knifepoint or something,” he finally said once they were both standing there admiring the ring on her finger while she sniffled intermittently.

“What would Steve think,” Darcy said solemnly, and started to giggle all over again. The phrase had become something of an inside joke with all the Avengers to the point where Tony made up t-shirts for everyone with the slogan printed on them the previous Christmas. 

Static crackled through both their comms for a moment, and then star-spangled man himself said, “Steve is going to think you two are holding everyone up.”

Tony’s voice cut across Steve’s. “Did she say yes? Before you answer, keep in mind that the wording is very important. I’ve got two-hundred bucks riding on this, Ash Williams.”

“Everyone who?” Darcy asked Bucky, completely ignoring Steve, Tony, and the Evil Dead reference that she would probably have to explain to both Steve _and_ Bucky later.

“Come and see.” He slung both backpacks over his shoulder, and took her hand, leading her out of the woods to the road nearby. A slew of vehicles containing all their friends were lined up in a caravan along the grassy shoulder. The moment she and Bucky appeared, horns started honking, and raucous cheers could be heard coming from the open windows.

Tony also fired off what Darcy strongly suspected was a rocket and not a legal firework.

Darcy turned to Bucky in shock. “How many people were in on this?”

“Just about all of them,” he shrugged. “Pepper sort of took over after I asked her where I could find a jeweler who would make a custom ring for you. She’s even got a bunch of wedding dress designers on call so you can pick what you want and get it fitted in time for next Friday. Your family is on standby too. Steve organized a jet to take them down to Louisiana if you said yes.”

“What if I had said no?”

“I asked them all that at one point. Natasha outright laughed at me. I took that as a good sign.”

“We’re eloping,” she said, bumping him with her hip, and flashing him a huge grin.

“We are,” he replied, grinning right back at her.

“I fucking love you. Do you know that?”

“Say it again.”

Darcy grabbed him by the straps of his tac gear, pulling him down so their faces were level. “I fucking love you, James. So much.”

He kissed her soundly, lifting her straight off her feet, and causing a second round of cheering from their friends. “I fucking love you too, Spot. Don’t kill me, but Steve’s driving.”

She was still laughing when they pulled onto the highway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already got some oneshots planned to add to this story, so keep an eye out for them. Also, in case you haven't already, come play with me on tumblr. I'm [leftylain](http://leftylain.tumblr.com/) over there.


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